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^ THE € 

HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN, 



EXEMPLIFIED IN THE 






I • 



\Q CHARACTER AND WRITINGS OF (. . f . 

\ MKS. SUSANNAH IT. TUCKER, 



Late of milton, mass. 



WITH AN INTRODUCTORY ESSAY 



REV. JOHN CODMAN, D. D. 



k 



3K s 1 n : ({/ 

PERKINS, MARVIN, & CO. 
1835. 






Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1835, 

by Perkins, Marvin, & Co. 

in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. 



^^//■U 



i 



D. CLAPP, JR PRINTER. 



t 



Z7^ 



2 TO THE 

t 

REVEREND SAMUEL GILE, 



PASTOR OF THE 

\ 

EVANGELICAL CHURCH IN MILTON, 

WHO FOR SEVERAL YEARS WAS THE 

HIGHLY ESTEEMED AND BELOVED MINISTER 

OF THE INDIVIDUAL 

WHOSE PIOUS EFFUSIONS ARE HERE PRESERVED, 

THIS VOLUME IS MOST RESPECTFULLY AND AFFECTIONATELY 

Betritatetr* 



INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 



In adding one more to the innumerable volumes of 
Christian Biography which distinguish the age in which 
we live, some apology may be deemed necessary and 
proper. 

The present publication is simply designed for the 
benefit of immediate relatives, and a little circle of christ- 
ian friends to whom the writer of the subsequent pages 
was well known, and by whom she will long be held in 
affectionate remembrance. 

As this volume may, however, find its way beyond the 
sphere for which it is more particularly intended, it has 
been thought desirable that it should be introduced to the 
favorable notice of the christian public by one, who, for 
many years, sustained the relation of Pastor to the modest 
and humble individual whose writings are here committed 
to the press. 

The reality of experimental religion has often been 
questioned, and even denied. There are many who con- 
sider religion as consisting in the observance of external 

rites and forms, or, at best, in the outward conformity of 
2 



iM.. 



6 



INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 



the life to the precepts of morality. Such persons deride 
all pretensions to what is generally termed experimental 
religion, or the religion of the heart. Those who make 
any pretensions to it, however humble and unobtrusive, 
are often accused of enthusiasm and hypocrisy. The 
enemies of the religion of the heart are always ready to 
attribute improper and unworthy motives to those who 
make a profession of experimental piety. Sometimes 
they are accused of assuming the cloak of religion to 
cover selfish and sinister purposes ; and it must be granted 
that there are not wanting instances of hypocrisy to justify 
the charges that are alleged against professors of religion. 
But, because there are to be found those who do not 
adorn their profession, it does not follow that there are 
no sincere christians ; because there is some counterfeit 
currency, it does not follow that there is no true coin. 
On the contrary, the very existence of the counterfeit 
proves the reality of the thing counterfeited. The mask 
of the hypocrite is taken from the features of the real 
christian. It must be acknowledged that there are some 
peculiar difficulties in establishing the reality of experi- 
mental religion, in answer to the objections of infidels and 
sceptics. The human heart is so deceitful and wicked, 
and there are so many inducements to false pretensions 
and hypocritical appearances, that we are almost afraid 



INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 7 

to speak, with confidence, of the experimental piety of 
others, lest we should eventually be deceived, and thus 
bring a reproach upon that holy cause we profess to love. 

But there is one kind of evidence of the truth of ex- 
perimental religion, which cannot but forcibly impress the 
minds of those who may read the following pages. It 
will be perceived that the artless writer commences her 
diary at a very early period of life, and gives a full and 
particular account of her religious views and feelings when 
a child of twelve or thirteen years. 

There are several reasons why the religious experience 
of children is better calculated than the experience of 
adult behevers, to silence the objections and cavils of the 
enemies of religion. 

It affords better evidence of sincerity. There are fewer 
temptations to hypocrisy and concealment. Childhood is 
pecuharly the season of artlessness. What can be more 
artless and simple than a little child, before it is acquaint- 
ed with the hackneyed ways of the world ? It is true, 
we not unfrequently meet with instances of cunning and 
deceitfulness in little children ; but it is not in pretensions 
to religion that this disposition is discovered. We see 
children sometimes attempt to deceive their parents and 
teachers by dissimulation and falsehood ; but very rarely, 
if ever, do we see them assume the appearance of religion^ 



8 INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 

with an intention to deceive. They are rarely, if ever, 
actuated by hypocritical motives in leaving their little 
sports for their Bibles — their gay companions for the so- 
ciety of experienced christians — the scene of amusement 
and dissipation for the meeting of prayer and the house of 
God. When we listen to the unaffected conversation of 
children on the subject of religion — when we hear them 
speak of the love of God and the Saviour — when we be- 
hold them patient under suffering and resigned to quit 
their hold of life, we have an evidence of the reality of 
religion that we do not find in the experience of older 
christians. We search in vain for the sinister and worldly 
. motive that could have operated on the infant mind — we 
feel a conviction, that the most hardened cannot resist, of 
sincerity and truth. 

Another reason why the conversion of children affords 
better evidence of the reality of religion, is, that it exhi- 
bits, in a more lovely aspect, the fruits of the Spirit. It 
is, indeed, a sight most cheering to the christian, to be- 
hold the sinner, hardened by years of continued iniquity 
and transgression, bowing, with meekness, at the foot of 
the cross ; but it is a sight still more lovely to witness the 
bloom of youth consecrated to the service of God, and to 
hear the tender accents of infancy lisping the name of 
Jesus. There is something inexpressibly lovely in the 



INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 9 

experience of the youthful christian. Who, that has ever 
enjoyed the privilege of witnessing real rehgion exhibited 
in the tender years of childhood and youth — of convers- 
ing with a child who has been taught by the Spirit of 
God — in whose heart the love of God has been shed 
abroad by the power of the Holy Ghost, that has not felt 
that there was something indescribably lovely in early 
piety — something that brought home to the heart an evi- 
dence of its reality that is not to be attained in so high a 
degree from the experience of others ? In the religion of 
youthful christians there is a softness and sweetness that 
is hke the opening rose bud before it fully expands into 
the spreading flower, and loses some of its fragrance by 
exposure to the air. 

Another reason why the religious experience of child- 
ren is better calculated to silence the objections and cavils 
of the enemies of religion, is, that it more strikingly dis- 
plays the immediate agency and power of God, It is 
not unfrequently objected to the religion of the adult, that 
it is the result of metaphysical speculation and abstruse 
reasoning. His views of religion, and his conversation 
upon it, appear to many to be nothing more than might 
naturally have been expected from his opportunities of 
acquiring knowledge, and the reflections of his own mind. 
But, when wa see a childj strongly imbued with the spirit 



10 INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 

of religion, conversing or writing upon those high and 
spiritual subjects which may well employ the meditations 
of saints and angels — when we listen to reflections on the 
insignificance of earthly things, and the value of the soul, 
and the joys of heaven, we are constrained to confess the 
power of God, and to acknowledge that it is the Lord's 
work and marvellous in our eyes. Even the enemies of 
rehgion, and those who are disposed to cavil at its doc- 
trines and deny its power, find it difficult to resist this 
testimony to its truth. It is a most convincing evidence 
of the reality of religion. It comes home to the con- 
science and the heart. It speaks, in language more per- 
suasive than the most powerful eloquence, that there is a 
blessed reality in christian experience, that the ways of 
religion are ways of pleasantness, and that all her paths 
are peace. 

There is another evidence in favor of the reality of 
rehgion, which cannot fail to excite the attention of the 
reader of this little volume. It is said by those who are 
determined to object to the most conclusive evidence 
arising from the experience of those youthful christians 
who have died young, that, had they hved, their reli- 
gious impressions would probably have been effaced by 
their intercourse with the world, and passed away like 
the morning cloud and the early dew, 



INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 11 

To this objection the volume before us furnishes a 
satisfactory reply. Although much of the diary and 
many of the letters were written in early life, the habit of 
writing on religious subjects was continued to the last, 
and the letters of the anxious mother to her beloved 
children form not the least interesting part of this valuable 
collection of papers. It will be perceived that the reli- 
gious character of the young disciple advanced with her 
advancing years, brightening her path as she pursued, 
with christian consistency, the duties that devolved upon 
her in the interesting relations of a wife and mother. 

While we would not anticipate the christian reader in 
the satisfaction which we have no doubt he will receive 
in the perusal of the following pages, we cannot but assure 
him that he will find portrayed in them a character of no 
ordinary kind. If we are not mistaken, he will perceive 
uncommon precocity of talent, strong sense and practical 
knowledge, united with deep humihty, and unaffected, 
unobtrusive piety. She had but few opportunities of 
education, but her thirst for knowledge induced her to 
improve them to the best advantage. Possessing natu- 
rally a diffident and retiring disposition, she was but little 
known out of the immediate circle of her acquaintance. 
Her words were few, though her writing w^as voluminous. 
Her principal companions, to use her own beautiful lan- 
guage, were " her pen, her Bible and her God." 



12 INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 

Although her christian character was always well known 
and highly appreciated^ yet her most intimate friends had 
no idea of her epistolary talent, the depth of her views on 
religious subjects, her ardent zeal for the advancement of 
the Redeemer's kingdom, or her strong personal desire to 
be actively engaged in the missionary enterprise, until the 
following pages were put into their hands for revision and 
publication. 

It is evident that the pious writer never expected that 
they would be seen and read out of her own immediate 
family, and would have shrunk, with that unaffected diffi- 
dence for which she was distinguished, from the publicity 
which some of her friends have thought it desirable should 
be given them, with a view to benefit others, especially 
the youthful part of the community. But, we doubt not, 
if anything on earth can increase the happiness of glorified 
saints, that her happy spirit will be rendered still more 
happy by the consideration that the humble productions 
of her pen have been instrumental in awakening the atten- 
tion of the thoughtless, and comforting and edifying the 
children of God. 

That this may be the happy result of this publication, 
is our sincere and earnest prayer. 

Dorchester^ July 25, 1834. 



BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 



Mrs. Susannah Humphreys Tucker was the oldest child 
of Mr. David and Mrs. Azubah Clapp, of Dorchester, Mass. 
in which town she was born on the 10th of May, 1802. 
Her early childhood was not remarkably distinguished from 
that of others ; but an activity of mind and body, a quickness 
of perception, and great tenderness of feeling, together with 
a fondness for study and an aptitude to learn, were mani- 
fested. An intuitive dread of falling short in accomplishing 
the full amount of her ability, in whatever she was engaged, 
was exhibited in her earliest years ; and hence she evinced 
an ardent and unwearied perseverance in the prosecution of 
her studies and her other youthful pursuits, which rarely 
allowed her to be second to any of her companions. In 
childhood, as well as in mature years, she was sometimes 
more governed by this innate conviction of what she con- 
sidered she could and therefore ought to perform, than by a 
due regard to her health and the advice of friends. 

She possessed naturally a slender constitution. From 
early life she was affected with many of the symptoms of 
the disorder which eventually brought her to the grave. 
Her seasons of sickness were frequent ; and while they 
doubtless contributed in some measure to the seriousness 
of mind which was early exhibited, and subsequently were 
the periods of many of her loftiest strains of devotional 
aspiration, they also tended to change her natural tender- 
ness of feeling into a morbid sensitiveness which was at 
times the source of severe trials. 

A taste for reading was shown in her tenderest years, and 
3 



14 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 

increased with her age. Through life her books Wer6 
classed among her dearest companions and chief sources of 
enjoyment, and evidences of a mature judgment in their 
choice were early developed. 

The principles of our holy religion were very early pre- 
sented to her notice, and as she became older were enforced 
upon her mind as the only sure guide through life and 
ground of hope in death. At the age of 12 years, or proba- 
bly previous to that time, these principles, by divine grace, 
had touched her heart, and brought her to feel her own nat- 
ural unworthiness in view of the perfect and broken law of 
God. Her convictions of sin were strong. She mourned 
long and deeply over the remembrance of her transgres- 
sions, and for that hardness of heart which could still pre- 
vent her from loving supremely her Maker and her Re- 
deemer. Owing to her natural diffidence, much of this 
mental suffering was unknown to her relations and asso- 
ciates. But though it was thus generally concealed from the 
knowledge of others, and though among her young com- 
panions her usual cheerfulness was still apparently main- 
tained, it was in a measure disclosed to a few of her more 
intimate friends, and still more fully expressed by her pen 
in a record of her religious experience, which even at that 
early period she was in the habit of preserving. 

She was at length led to rejoice in the belief, that, utter- 
ly unworthy as she felt herself to be, she could safely trust 
in the merits of the Saviour for pardon and salvation. The 
joy which she experienced as this assurance was graciously 
permitted to illuminate the recent darkness of her mind, 
was great, and at times transporting. Thoughtful and 
outwardly correct as she had before been, the change was 
now evident. A deeper principle regulated her thoughts, 
words and actions, and she was conscious she had com- ^ 



BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 1^ 

menced wjiat ought to be a new life, and which she humbly 
trusted would prove such. At 14, she was admitted into 
the Rev. Dr. Codman's church, of which she was the 
youngest for several years, and of which she continued au 
active and worthy member till the year 1825. In July, of 
that year, she was married to Mr. Charles Tucker, of Mil- 
ton, and her connection with Dr. C.'s church was according- 
ly transferred to that of the Rev. Samuel Gile, in that town, 
of which her husband was a member. 

A direct descendant, by both parents, from those who 
were among the first settlers of New England, she was 
firm in the belief of the doctrines of the gospel which 
they so zealously cherished — yet not censorious nor bigoted 
in regard to those who believed differently. It was her 
constant endeavor to cultivate a spirit of peace and charity 
towards all, and to suffer the fruits of her own religious be- 
lief to be rather exhibited in a spotless and holy life, than 
in a controversial and contentious disposition. Yet she 
was ever able to defend the doctrines she professed to be- 
lieve, and to " give a reason of the hope that was in her." 
Her religion was in a marked degree one of principle, 
taking deep hold of the understanding as well as the heart. 
This was strikingly manifest during the many trying situ- 
ations to which a long course of ill health subjected her, at 
different periods of her life. From the nature of her phy- 
sical infirmities, as well as of her peculiar temperament, 
her ordinary feelings sympathized strongly with her bodily 
health, and were therefore subject to vicissitudes. But a 
deep and settled conviction of the truth of the gospel, and 
of her obligation and determination to perform the duties 
which it enjoins, was never at these times wanting, though 

in her self-abasement she was often led to doubt the evi- 
3# 



16 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 

dences of her regeneration, and to mourn over the coldness of 
her devotions and the sluggishness of her christian progress. 

As has already been observed, she early acquired the free 
use of her pen. From a period previous to the commence- 
ment of her religious impressions, to the close of life, she 
accustomed herself to record, in a regular and copious 
diary, her thoughts and feelings on various subjects. Ma- 
ny of these writings she herself afterwards destroyed. 
Most of those which were preserved are more particular- 
ly of a religious and devotional character. This, next to 
her private and public acts of devotion, was her dearest 
employment for many years ; and, in connection with a fa- 
miliar correspondence with numerous friends, it was that 
which peculiarly suited her native talents and her most suc- 
cessful acquirements. A retiring diffidence often imposed 
upon her a rigid restraint in conversation, preventing the 
full and free expression of her religious feelings and belief, 
and sometimes also confining the amount of her active 
christian labors far within the limits which were prompted 
by her benevolent and pious heart. The absence of this 
oppressive restraint in her private meditations and in the 
exercise of a vigorous mind by the use of her pen, was to 
her a most delightful freedom. It was to her private diary, 
which for so many years was a companion and a cher- 
ished treasure, that she more particularly delighted to re- 
sort ; and there was she in the daily habit of unbosoming 
her inmost promptings and desires, together with those deep, 
humble, devotional exercises of her mind and heart, which 
were too sacred for the ear of dearest friendship, and the 
depth and fervency of which were known only to herself 
and her God. 

The minuteness and extent of her diary may be consid- 
ered a convincing proof of uncommon industry, as well as 



BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 17 

of her peculiar relish for this employment — ^the portions 
of it which are contained in the subsequent pages forming 
but a Very small part of the original. Her pen was not 
resorted to for the purpose of filling up the leisure hours of 
one who had nothing else to attend to, as, during most 
of the time previous to her having the charge of a family, 
when her health permitted, she was engaged in some regu- 
lar manual employment, at Avhich she accomplished, as has 
already been observed, more than an average amount. 
During a few of her latest years, amidst the various du- 
ties which the cares of a family imposed upon her, she 
also found time to pen a series of papers, intended exclu- 
sively for her two children, whom she had a presentiment 
she should early be called to leave, and to whose welfare 
she wished to contribute by instructions which might guide 
their tender years when their mother's voice should be 
silent in the grave. 

In the retired and peaceful enjoyment of her own family, 
and in the active discharge of her various duties, she pass- 
ed her time till the summer of 1831, when her health, 
which for several years had been more feeble than formerly, 
began sensibly to decline under the inroads of a pulmonary 
consumption. This was less evident, however, to herself, 
than to the vigilant scrutiny of anxious friends. 

It was not till the fall of 1832, when her strength, which 
for more than a year had steadily but almost imperceptibly 
failed, had so far gone as to prevent her leaving her room, 
that she was conscious a fatal disease had taken deep root 
in her system, and that no earthly power could save or pro- 
long her life. And this was the time for her religious faith 
and hope to pass through a severer test than they had yet 
experienced. The religion of the gospel, which in her ten- 



1© BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH* 

der years she had chosen as the guide of her life and the 
foundation of her future hope, had sustained her amid the 
enticing snares of youth and the responsibilities and perils 
of womanhood ; it had been with her, her cherished stay and 
comforter, in health and in sickness, in joy and in sorrow; 
and she had looked upon it, while death seemed far from 
her, as her only trust and consolation in that last mortal 
conflict. But now, when disease was daily bringing her 
nearer the final scene, she felt herself in a new and an untried 
situation. The comforts and delights of social life, which 
had accompanied this divine trust, and which, in numerous 
w^ays, were intimately and delightfully associated with it, 
were one after another leaving her ; and that fearful hour 
was fast approaching, when she must bid a long farewell 
to those who were dearer to her than she could express, and 
enter, alone^ a world yet hidden by the thick veil of the 
grave. She had always entertained a dread of bodily pain, 
and her natural timidity had invested the act of dying with 
an insupportable share of it. It was therefore a physical 
shrinking, in fearful anticipation of the agonies of expiring 
nature, as much as the terrors which hovered over a dark 
futurity, that constituted the struggle which now awaited 
her. Does it detract from the efficacy of the religion which 
she professed, or from the genuineness of her faith in it, 
that for a season its blessed light was excluded by the 
trembling doubts and fears of a heart and frame, of tender 
sensibility, suffering under the weight of these accumulat- 
ing, these heretofore unknown, afflictions? No — for it was 
but the passing of a cloud over the still glorious sun; and 
though the darkness that followed was indeed at times 
great, yet, thanks be to God, a noon-tide blaze of heavenly 
light was at length shed upon her apparently benighted 



BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 19 

path. The early-sought and long-cherished immortal prin- 
ciple was at length revived, and in its divine armor she con- 
quered the fear of her last great enemy. 

From this time till her death — a period of about two 
months — she became more and more resigned to the divine 
will, as the conviction was more fully confirmed that her 
days were numbered and w^ould very soon be finished ; and 
in the exercise of an increasing faith, she was enabled more 
firmly and joyfully to centre her affections and hopes in 
heaven. She felt and acknowledged that she could leave 
her two beloved children, for whose sake more than for any 
other cause she could still wish to live, in the kind keeping 
of her heavenly Father, to whose tender mercy she had 
entrusted her own departing spirit. She recounted to the 
writer, with great apparent thankfulness, a few days before 
she died, some of the many blessings for which she felt her 
deepest gratitude was due. She alluded to the circumstance 
of the removal of her former distressing doubts — to her 
present comparative bodily comforts — to the kind and ready 
attentions of friends — to the great consolation she had re- 
ceived from the constant attendance of her mother ; and 
she hoped that for all these favors she-should be sufficiently 
thankful during her few remaining days. The views of 
her own insufficiency and un worthiness, which had been so 
constantly maintained through her whole christian course, 
were still strikingly manifest — her only hope of salvation 
resting upon the mercy of God in Christ. The day before 
she died, she traced in pencil a short and affectionate fare- 
well to her much-loved and absent sister. On each of the 
five preceding days, she had in the same manner written a 
few lines, as a continuation of her diary, expressing her en- 
tire resignation and willingness to depart. 



20 BIOGiaAPHICAL SKETCH. 

During the forenoon of the day of her death, January 
1, 1833, she appeared disposed to slumber, but continued 
sensible, and expressed her desire to be in heaven. Early 
in the afternoon she revived, though it was evident her time 
had nearly come. She inquired of her mother, who was 
by her side, what she thought of her. Knowing that no 
danger was to be apprehended from telling her the truth, her 
mother informed her that she thought she was dying. " Do 
you ?" said she, in a tone of mingled surprise and pleasure, 
and calmly inquired if her mother-in-law was of the same 
opinion. On being asked if she did not think so herself, 
she replied — " It seems as though it could not be, I feel so 
comfortable ; but," she continued, " it is the best news you 
have told me this fortnight." To an inquiry, subsequent^ 
ly, by her parent, if she knew her, she answered — " Yes, 
dear mother ;" and soon added — " Farewell, dear mother." 
She also bade an affectionate adieu to her husband, and to 
other friends around her bed. She was soon after asked 
the state of her mind, and she made an effort to pronounce 
the word " happy; " but it was her last bodily exertion, and 
her last breath was apparently exhausted in the attemptc 
The only outward sign of death was her ceasing to breathe. 
She emphatically " departed in peace." The agony of " this 
great separation of soul and body," to use her own expres- 
sion, the thoughts of which had caused such fearful appre- 
hensions, was mercifully taken away, and she was enabled, 
in the full and calm possession of all her intellectual facul- 
ties, to realize that the Jordan over which she was now 
passing was but a pleasant entrance into that " rest " which 
she dared humbly but confidently to trust was reserved for 
her in heaven. 



THE 
HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN, 



DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 



[The earliest production of the pen of Mrs. T. which was saved 
by herself from the flames, to which she committed many of her 
more juvenile writings, is under the date of December, 1813, 
when she was 11 years of age. It appears originally to have 
been the commencement of a small daily journal, and is in these 
words : — ] 

I intend here to write down all the exercises of my 
mind, since I was first led to inquire for the one thing 
needful, and also the letters I have written since that 
time, and which I may hereafter write. Perhaps I shall 
never live to write this book through ; but if I do not, I 
shall the sooner be praising God with the heavenly host 
above. I can willingly and cheerfully commit my soul to 
Him, depending upon his righteousness alone for salvation. 

[There is an interval of nearly a year between this and the 
succeeding date ; after which, an unbroken series is maintained 
for more than seven years, when casual intermissions again occur 
during the remainder of her life. The selections which have 
been made from the mass of writings thus accumulated, are 
given in the succeeding pages.] 
4 



22 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [NoV. 

Sept. 6, 1814. — Through the mercy of God, I have 
been spared through another day- While many have 
gone to their long homes, I, a sinful worm, have been 
preserved. 

Oct. 31. — I think I have enjoyed God to-day. What 
shall I render unto him for all his benefits ? I thank him 
for the many blessed and comforting promises he has given 
to us in the Bible. I feel myself indeed obhgated to him 
for every blessing. Attended Mr. C.'s meeting yesterday. 
Mr. B.5 of Dedham, preached. His text in the forenoon 
was in Rom. vii. 9 ; and in the afternoon, Rom. vii. 24. 
He told the christian's experience. I thought I had felt 
it J and was much comforted by his sermon. Yes, I do 
love my dearest Saviour. It would be my delight to 
praise him always. Yesterday I felt all my doubts and 
fears removed, and thought I had been washed in the 
blood of the Lamb. If those who are seeking after world- 
ly pleasure only knew what a precious Saviour is offered 
to them, I think they would accept him. O what can 
exceed a Saviour's love ! Had I ten thousand worlds, I 
would part with them all for a Saviour. 

TO Miss S. C. OF D. 

Dorchester, JVove7nher 12, 1814. 
I thank you for your kind letter. I think I love Christ, 
but am afraid I am deceived. I am wilhng to endure 
persecution if I can but arrive at heaven at last. I take 
much comfort in the company of christians. I love the 
children of God far more than those of the world, and 
take great delight in conversing with them upon religion. 



1814.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 23 

I much enjoy reading the Bible, especially the New Tes- 
tament. I have a great desire to follow Christ. I think 
there is not so much happiness in anything else. O bless- 
ed God, " A day spent in thy courts is better than a thou- 
sand. I had rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my 
God, than to dwell in the tents of wickedness." I am 
often surprised at the love of Christ, that he should be 
willing to save such a sinner as I am. I wonder I was 
not lono; ao:o sufFerino; in the world of wo, for I am sure 
my sins have deserved it. I believe that Christ is willing 
to save me if I come to him in a right way, because he 
has said, ^' Him that cometh to me 1 will in no wise cast 
out." I see nothing in this w^orld half so lovely as Christ. 
If I had a good assurance of an interest in him, I would 
not give up the hope and go back again to the world, 
though I might have the riches and honors of ten thousand 
worlds, for I love Christ better. I want to be a christian 
and enjoy religion ; this is my most earnest desire. 

S. H. C. 

iVoy. 14. — Mr. H., of Bridgewater, preached yester- 
day, from these words — ^' There is therefore now no con- 
demnation to them which are in Christ Jesus." An ex- 
cellent sermon. When shall I be thankful enough for 
the many mercies I enjoy ? I had a sweet time this morn- 
ing in prayer. I thought God was evidently with me. I 
have many times been ready to say, while enjoying 
religion — '^ Lord, why was I a guest ? " But O, I shud- 
der at the dreadful thought, I may be deceiving myself. 
I often think of this verse — 



24 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [NoV. 

" Mistaken souls, who dream of heaven, 

And make their empty boast 
•Of inward joys and sins forgiven, 

While they are slaves to lust." 

Yet why art thou cast down, O my soul ? The Lord still 
reigns. I once thought, if I had a good hope I should 
always be happy ; but now know it is not so. No, I must 
not expect always to be on the mount. — In perusing . the 
Evangelical Magazine, I found an experience in many 
respects like my own. It was in a letter written to the 
Rev. Mr. Newton. The writer says— ^^ When about to 
commit any sin, something would say, ' Will you do this 
sin and risk heaven ? ' Another thought would start up 
and say, ' Do it — pray do it ; you know you can repent 
of it at a future period, and it is as easy to repent of many 
as of one sin. Do comply.' If I complied, Satan would 
suggest, ' Now you have eaten the forbidden fruit, hke 
Adam, and are lost. You have gone too far for repent- 
ance to have any weight.' " In this way I have many 
times been led into sin. O my deceitful and desperately 
wicked heart ! 

Nov. 23. — Mr. C.'s text at the lecture last evening, 
was these words^'^ Incline thine ear and come unto me ; 
hear, and your soul shall live." It was a very comforting 
sermon. I thought I could see my evidence clear. I am 
now very happy. O what has Christ done and suffered 
for me ! When I reflect upon it, I am astonished that 
God should save such an one as I am. How have I sin- 
ned against him ! O how wonderful is his love to sinners, 
and to me who am the chief! 



1814.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE, 25 

Nov, 25. — Where shall I find words to express the 
happhiess I feel ? O that all the world knew the worth 
of a precious Saviour ! They would leave all their earthly- 
pleasures, which are but vanity, and come to Jesus. They 
could not refrain from praising the Friend of sinners, for 
he is altogether lovely. And must I stay still longer on 
earth, and sin against God ? O I cannot do it — I cannot. 
But hush ! I fear my impatience is sin. Lord, pardon this 
importunity, and grant me thine assistance every moment 
to keep me from sinning, and from the vanities of the world. 

TO Miss M. B. OF D. 

Borcliester^ JVbvemher 28, 1814. 
Nothing is of so much importance to write upon, as re- 
ligion. This is the only thing in which real happiness 
consists. Without religion, we can neither be happy in 
this world nor in the v/orld to come. Do you not wish 
to be happy ? O, then, repent of your sins and come to 
Christ, who stands with open arms ready to receive you, 
and you will not be cast away. Believe me, there is 
more comfort to be taken in one hour with God, than in 
years spent in the pleasures of sin. God gave his dearly- 
beloved Son to die for us, that through him we might 
have everlasting life. Attend to these things while young, 
and it will save much repentance. You are youno-, but 
not too young to die. There are a great many promises 
in the Bible for young people. Here is a precious one — 
'' They who seek me early shall find me." The Bible 
is full of instruction. Attend to it, for it contains the 
words of eternal life. s. h. c. 

5 



26 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [Jan, 

Dec, 10. — When christians mournj sinners rejoice. 
How long will the world thus be divided ? When will 
the Millennium, that long-wished-for period, arrive — when 
all will be united, and each one love his neighbor as him- 
self? Christians appear to be deficient in their duty. O 
that they would set a better example before the world. 
The people of the world, too, seem to carry their wicked- 
ness farther than common. How can this be preparing 
the way for that happy period ? Yet we read there shall 
come a falling away first. 

Dec, 31. — This is the last day of the year. 1 think it 
has been the most important year of my life. V\^hat do 
I not owe to God.? ''^ Draw me, O God, and I will run 
after thee." 

Jan, 1, 1815. — Through the mercy of God, I have 
been brought to see the light of this pleasant morning. It 
is the Sabbath, ^^ the day of all the week the best." How 
do I intend to spend this year, should my life be spared ? 
Shall I spend it in the pleasures of sin, or in the true en- 
joyment of religion ? I have tried them both, and can 
without hesitation affirm that it is religion only which 
yields solid comfort. I never knew comfort, compara- 
tively speaking, until I knew religion. I am resolved for 
the future to spend my precious moments no more in vanity. 

TO MISS M. B. OF D. 

Dorchester, January 23, 1815. 
As you requested me to write, I embrace the first op- 
portunity to comply. I hope you now begin to seek the 
things which are above. If you rightly value your own 



1815.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 27 

happiness, you certainly do seek them. I beg you never 
to stifle convictions. If you feel yourself to be a sinner, 
lost and undone, never strive to drive it from your mind, 
but go and pray to God that he would remove the burden 
and give you pardon for your sins. I know that many 
who have convictions try to drive away the uneasiness 
with vain company, reading entertaining stories, &:c. This 
has probably been the ruin of some. Would you not like 
to appear in the white robe of a Saviour's righteousness ? 
Then you must be one of those ^^ who have come out of 
great tribulation," as we read in Rev. vii. We must be 
in anguish for our sins, which are innumerable. A sinner 
is not always led to call upon God immediately for deli- 
verance, but God for wise purposes suffers him to go 
mournino; a lono; season. What wonderful love the 
Father hath bestowed upon the children of men, in mak- 
ing them heirs of his kingdom ! O, M., ever love and 
adore this great God, who is matchless in grace and infi- 
nite in mercy, long-suffering, and boundless in his love. 
Words are inadequate to express his goodness. You must 
search the Scriptures, ^^ for they are they which testify 
of him." 

There are varieties in christian experience. Some have 
their convictions come on so gradually that they know no 
particular time when the saving change was wrought. But 
the language of every christian, I think, is — ^^ Whereas I 
was once blind, now 1 see." I believe that all christians 
have seen the time when they could feelingly say — ^^ God 
be merciful to me a sinner." Never let your prayer be 
like the boasting Pharisee's. We have no merits of our 
own ; we must plead the merits of Jesus, who died for us. 



28 HIDDtEN life of a CHmSTIAlsr^ [Marchy 

Religion does not consist in outward forms, but our 
hearts must be changed from nature to grace ; then our 
conduct will of course be different, for " How can a cor- 
rupt tree bring forth good fruit, or how can a good tree 
bring forth evil fruit ? '' Truly even a christian cannot be 
perfect in this w^orld. Sanctification is a gradual w^ork — 
is never completed until after death. We may see a great 
many faults in christians, but we cannot see their hearts. 

I hope you do not forget to pray to God. He knows 
all our wants, but he will be inquired of by us for needed 
blessings. Pray to him to give you a new heart, and he 
will delight to answer the request. Though he may not 
answer as soon as you expect, or in the way you may 
look for, yet if you ask aright your petition certainly will 
be granted. Christ says, ^^ Ask, and ye shall receive ; 
knock, and it shall be opened unto you." These words 
are spoken by one who cannot lie, s. h, c. 

Feb. 14. — ^Peace declared this day between England 
and America. What a blessing God has bestowed upon 
us — \\ov^l much more than we could expect, when so un- 
deservino- ! O that w^e could all live as we ouo;ht — but O 
our wickedness ! We must expect judgments. 

March 24. — Am unhappy to-day. I am afraid 1 shall 
be w^eighed in the balance and found wanting. Have been 
learning this hymn — '^'Tis a point I long to know," and 
have derived some comfort from it. I find my own feel- 
ings there described. — I dread the approaching summer. 
The fear of the thunder which 1 must necessarily hear^ 
bears heavy on my mind. If I were sure I should die 
thiis night, I should not feel so much agitated as I am wdth 



1815.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 29 

the fears of thunder. I am afraid Satan will keep me a 
slave to fear all the season. But this is my only conso- 
lation, that God has power, and if he is my friend I need 
fear nothing. Therefore my first endeavor shall be to 
gain his favor. 

26. — I find learning hymns a great remedy against evil 
thoughts. While my hands are employed in common 
business, I can have the hymn book before me, and have 
learnt many hymns in this way. I have been more com- 
posed to-day, still entertaining a hope that I have been 
changed from nature to grace. I often think of the poor 
heathen, who enjoy no Sabbaths as we do. O, had I the 
wings of a dove, I would soon wing my way to those be- 
nighted regions where sin and wo do not cease to reign. 
I should feel myself amply rewarded, even if I should 
suffer more than I can imagine, were it made the means 
of saving one poor soul from eternal punishment. But 
perhaps I myself am in the gall of bitterness and the 
bonds of iniquity. 

April 9. — Have just returned from public worship. 
Saw the members of the church partake of the holy eu- 
charist. O how I longed to be one of them ! Mr. C.'s 
sermon in the forenoon gave me no small uneasiness. He 
said all who did not belong to Christ's visible church, 
might be said to deny him. I cannot bear to think of 
denying a dear friend ; I think it is inhuman. Yet I do 
not feel fit to belong to the church. 

April 11. — I have thought much of giving myself up 
publicly to God, by joining his visible church, but I do 
not feel worthy. Perhaps they may say I am too young 
5=* 



30 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [^pril, 

— I have not knowledge enough — and that I shall fall 
away^ which I greatly dread. 

Thanksgiving Day, April 13. — Thanks be given to 
the only wise God, who has again granted us the inesti- 
mable blessing of Peace. We will ever adore this great 
God, who has all things at his disposal. — I long to hear the 
joyful news that heathen India has become the happy 
place where Jesus reigns — that instead of idol Vvorship, 
they worship the true God. 

I have this afternoon been looking over these writings. 
I see the want of more care and accuracy ; but it is of no 
consequence. I have pictured as well as I am able the 
feelings of my heart. I am glad I have saved so many 
from the flames, as I have often found encouragement in 
reading them. I had distress of mind for three months. 
I sought comfort in everything, but found it alone in Je- 
sus. I find I have been harassed with doubts and fears 
ever since. During the first part of my pilgrimage I was 
often in fear of being deceived. I have had to fight 
against the world, the flesh, and the devil. I have had 
wars within, and temptations without. But a kind God 
has brought me safely thus far. The fears of death have 
been removed in such a manner that it seems a blessed 
thing to die, and I long for that happy hour to arrive. 
"Thanks be to God, who giveth us the victory through 
our Lord Jesus Christ." Although I meet with many 
trials, I am not in the least degree tempted to leave 
Christ. I can say, with Peter — " Lord, to wliom else 
shall we go ? " But O, perhaps like him I shall fall 
aw^ay. I feel now as though I could not, but I am not 



J815.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 31 

my own keeper. I wish to pursue with more eagerness 
the path set before me. O God, on thee I lean — wik 
thou sustain me ; and when I am removed from this wea- 
risome world, and this once aching head hes easy beneath 
the clods, I trust this happy spirit will be singing eternal 
praises to ImmanueL I long to be able to satisfy my dear 
relatives, on my dyhig bed, that I shall sweetly repose 
on the bosom of Jesus. 

May 3.—^^ Is it not strange that one day I should be 
upon the m.ount, the next in the valley ? Yesterday I 
was happy praising God, to-day quite cold and stupid." 
Pious Mrs. Rowe thus inquired ; and I must expect no- 
thing more, who am so much beneath such a christian. 

Here in my little book will I write all my heart, since 
no one ever sees my wTitings. My inaccurate effusions 
vnll not meet the eyes of critical observers. If 1 ever 
entertained the thought that they would, I should be 
more careful. 

My mind has lately been exercised wdth thoughts of 
joining the church. Mr. C. in his late sermon told us, as 
we departed from the house, to ask ourselves why we 
had not come forward and joined Christ's visible church. 
I made the excuse — I have not knowledge enough. O 
God, wilt thou remove the fear of man, which bringeth a 
snare. I cannot refrain from weeping to think that the 
fear of the world still bears upon me. But have I know- 
ledoe enouo-h ? I fear I have not. Yet I know Christ 
has shed his precious blood and purchased our pardon, 
which by the deeds of the law we never could have 
purchased. 



32 



HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [Ma'J, 



May 4. — When I first began my pilgrimage, I was re- 
solved not to indulge those disquietudes of mind I heard 
others complain of. Then my countenance bespoke the 
happiness within. But how often has it since worn a dif- 
ferent aspect ! While thinking of these things, I feel my 
heart glow with love to my Saviour, who did not hesitate 
to shed his precious blood for me on Calvary, He once 
smiled upon me and kindly said — ^^ Thy sins are forgiven 
thee ; go in peace." 

Mai/ 11. — Yesterday was my birthday. I was 13 
years old. When I review my past life, and see how 
much time 1 have squandered away, I blush and am 
ashamed. Years rolled away ere I attended to religion. 
Well may I repent before God in dust and ashes. During 
the past year I have been brought fully to see my sad state 
by nature, have been led to the fountain head, and have, 
I trust, been adopted into the family of God. I have 
also felt the alarms of war, have seen preparations for 
battles, and have indeed had my share of grief. O the 
dreadful consequences of war ! 

12. — I love this book. This is the friend, and the 
only friend, to which I can unbosom the inmost recesses 
of my heart. Here, with my beloved pen, can I commu- 
nicate the joys and griefs, cares and anxieties, troubles 
and disappointments, of my life. This friend will retain 
in its memory all I relate — and when I wish, relate it to 
me again. 

25. Sabbath, — Have heard Dr. Griffin preach. His 
text was — ^' When I was a child I understood as a child, 
I thoutrht as a child," he. He said the most eminent 



1815.] BIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 33 

saint upon earth is a^ a child, for now he knows only in 
part ; hut when he arrives at the state of manhood, that 
is, after death, he will put away childish things. When 
we arrive at heaven, we shall look down upon all these 
sublunary things with which our time has been employed^ 
and acknowledge them to be mere playthings. 

June 19. — I hear the sound of a funeral knell. Some 
breathless corpse is about to be deposited beneath the clods 
for a time. Perhaps its happy soul has entered the bless- 
ed courts above, and is employed in singing praises to the 
Lamb who was slain, looking dow^n with contempt upon 
these perishing things of earth. But perhaps it is the 
reverse. O awful imagination ! 

July 9. — Rays of divine light have this morning darted 
Into my soul. A Saviour's smiles are indeed worth mil- 
lions of worlds. I long to tell a whole universe the love 
of Immanuel, for the souls of others are precious, as well 
as my own. 

The dear people of God are now assembling where 
prayer is wont to be made, and where I have often met 
them. How have I improved those holy seasons? I 
have enjoyed my sweetest moments in that sacred house, 
and have often said — ^^ It is good for me to be here.'' 
Now^ indisposition, inflicted by a good Providence, pre- 
vents my enjoying the blessing. But Jesus has not left 
me, for he has again shed abroad comfort in this late sad 
heart. I have often, this morning, thought of these words : 

'• For death stands ready at the door, 
To snatch our lives away." 

But in death, solemn as it is, there appears to be some- 



1 



34 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [July, 

thing pleasing. But is it real ? Let me imagine myself 
on a dying bed, and my soul about to take its flight. 
Yes, I think it would be a happy hour. " O, 'tis a glo- 
rious boon to die." 

'' This sou] would stretch its wings in haste, 
FIj fearless through death's iron gate, 
Nor feel the terrors as she pass'd." 

Yet, O God, make me contented in my station, and 
thankful for the many mercies I receive. May I walk in 
the footsteps of my Saviour, and keep his commandments. 
16. Sabbath. — I am deprived of attending public wor- 
ship to-day. 

*' Jesus, I long, I faint to see 
The place of thine abode." 

what would I give for the meanest place at the feet of 
Jesus, if any mean place there is. Can such a vile sin- 
ner — despicable in my own polluted eyes, and much more 
so in the pure eyes of God — ever expect to be saved ? 
Is it not presumption ? How can it be that I should be 
called, while others, so much more w^orthy, if the word 
may be used, are rejected? Must I then give up my 
hope ? No, God's grace is sufficient for me. He is able 
to make rae worthy. I will put my trust in him. 

I have been reading the life of Dr. Doddridge and his 
sermons to young people. Find them excellent. 

It is now almost a year since I entertained a hope, and 

1 have not yet commemorated the dying love of my Sa- 
viour. Why should I be ashamed of the cross ? Christ 
stooped so low as to come to earth to die for creatures 
infinitely beneath him ; and shall I be ashamed of the 



1815.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 3o 

cross ? Shall any who pretend to be his followers be 
ashamed of him ? I have formerly, with the world, ac- 
counted the sph'it of a christian to be melancholy, and the 
ways of holiness only unpleasant paths leading to the 
deserts of sad retired ness ; but now I see that the christ- 
ian has hidden manna, which the world knows not of — 
glorious joys, which the stranger cannot meddle with — 
and the more exact his walk, the fuller are his joys. Once 
the very thought of parting with my worldly delights, to 
embrace soul-humbhng, self-denying diUies, was grievous 
to me. 

July 19. — I read of Basil, that he persuaded himself 
that if he were in a wilderness, free from the company of 
men. he should serve God more devoutly and be happy; 
but when he came there, he said — •• I have forsaken all 
things, but yet I retain my old heart.'' O Basil, let me 
learn of thee to be contented ; for should my situation be 
changed, I fear that I, too, should still retain my old heart. 

I think I can say it is harder to feel reconciled to live, 
than to die. Where are those agonizing fears of death I 
once possessed ? I desire to praise God for removing 
them. The joyful day will appear, when, from this clay 
undressed, I shall mount aloft to sweet celestial things. I 
long for the hour of release, when I shall be rid of this 
heavy burden. But alas ! I must now go down again, to 
converse awhile with earth. O that I could be permitted 
to sit till death, in this dehghtful frame I 

23. — Once more I greet a sacred morn. I much desire 
to commemorate a Saviour's dying love. Is it the fear of 
man w hich keeps me back ? Shall the world keep me 



36 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. [-^Ug- 

from performing my duty ? I have other reasons for this 
neo-lect, but I am afraid the fear of man is the oreatest. I 
am young and unstable, and fear I shall not live according 
to the solemn profession. Where shall I find the right 
way, that I may walk therein ? 

TO Miss M. B. OF D, 

Dorchester, August 17, 1815. 

Dear Friend — ^You desired me to write, and my own 
inclination persuades me to comply. When I am with 
my young companions, I am apt to be too gay and 
thoughtless. Not that I think it wrong to be cheerful at 
proper times, but rather commendable ; yet when toge- 
ther, our time should not be spent in conversation of no 
importance, for our moments are too precious to be squan- 
dered away in such a manner. 

What can I say to win you to Christ? Perhaps you 
are possessed of a great desire to be a child of God ; you 
feel your load of sin, and at times are greatly distressed. 
You know you must repent, but think that you will defer 
it to another period. But why delay to serve him who 
did not hesitate to die for you, but who left his Father's 
bosom and a heaven of infinite delight, and came to earth, 
here to become a subject of affliction all his days, a 
man of constant grief. Here, too, after living in sorrow, 
he suffered a more cruel death than imagination can paint 
to our view — and this merely for love to us. He still 
intercedes at the throne of grace for us, and if we only 
give ourselves up to him, we may be saved. The judg- 
ment day will soon arrive, when we must assemble at the 



1815.1 blARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 37 

bar of God. O cast yourself upon the Saviour, and you 
will then be secure. s. h. c. 

Sept. 12. — O that it were with tliis sad heart as in 
months past, when the candle of the Lord shone bright 
around me. Can I find a friend in Jesus, when I have 
so greatly backslidden, and deserve so much displeasure? 
Will he still show kindness ? I doubt, but perhaps this 
is impious unbelief. 

Oct. 12. — When my soul has been cast down, and 1 
have again found my Redeemer, I find it is I who have 
forsaken him ; he is the same yesterday, to-day, and for- 
ever. Sin is the cause of sorrow. O for that blest hour 
when I shall quit these vain things here below, and fly to 
realms above, where sighing and sorrow shall forever cease. 

Dec. 4. — I was deprived of attendance on public wor- 
ship yesterday, but think I enjoyed God at home. Nu- 
merous are the privileges we in this land enjoy. We can 
not only hear the word preached on the Sabbath, but also 
on other days. While we enjoy these inestimable bless- 
ings, we should not forget the poor heathen, who are en- 
tire strangers to the joys we feel. We should pray for 
them, and likewise for those who have submitted to the 
toils and hardships of a missionary life to declare to them 
a Saviour. And is there nothing more we can do ? Shall 
our hands hang down and we refuse to lend their aid ? If 
a person can only afford a few shillings, these w^ould pur- 
chase a Testament, and that perhaps would be the means 
of saving one poor soul from death, which would be a 
crown of rejoicing in a future world. 
6 



SB HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [Dec, 

9.— I have this day finished reading the Memoirs of 
Miss Woodbury. Spent the day yesterday chiefly in 
reading it. Have also been reading Dana's Memoirs of 
Pious Women. How courageously Lady Jane Grey died 
on the scaffold ! But why should it not be expected, 
since Jesus was hers, and she was blessed with his pre- 
sence even in those moments. — Have spent this afternoon 
in the delightful employment of writing. Felt very happy 
this evening, and thought much of death. His sting is 
gone. Jesus has purchased for me a crown of glory which 
will never fade. 

14. — I long to be useful in the world — useful in win- 
ning souls to Christ. O that I might feel more the influ- 
ences of divine love shed abroad in my heart, and live 
entirely devoted to God. 1 have not attended meeting 
on the Sabbath since the latter end of November. I de- 
sire to meet with the dear christians, but must attend to 
my health, for this also is a duty. 

" Thou art the man " — perhaps distinguished for a good 
or a bad action thou hast done. Perhaps thou hast lived 
in sin many years and grown hardened. Nothing will 
melt thy hard heart, and thou art resolved to go on as 
thou hast begun, sinning against God, refusing to pray, 
aad following hard after the pleasures of the world. Thou 
art the man whose day of grace is coming to an end ; and 
perhaps it will ere long be said of thee — Thou art the 
man who was often warned and urged to return to thy 
God, but all these calls thou hast refused, and now thou 
art suffering a just punishment for thy unrighteousness. 
Perhaps thou art the man w^orn down with affliction and 



1815.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 39 

adversity. You have felt the rod^ but all this has not led 
you to the great source of heavenly comfort. Perhaps 
thou art the man who has been brought into marvellous 
light ; you have been sensible of your sins, and in Jesus, 
by prayer and supphcation, you have found rest and hope, 
your salvation, your hfe and your all. Your warfare is 
begun ; but be not discouraged because of the way — soon 
will your trials be ended, and you receive a crown of glory. 
Thou indeed art the man— yes, the truly happy man ! You 
are drawing near your end, and expect soon to close your 
eyes on all sublunary things and be in glory. Your body 
will soon be mouldering m dust, but your happy spirit 
purified and received into a heavenly kingdom. 

26. — Went to Boston yesterday, and in the forenoon 
attended the Roman Catholic church. It is an ancient 
saying — ^^ The eye is never satisfied with seeing, nor the 
ear with hearing ^' ; but yesterday I felt perfectly satisfied 
with both. It appeared there in one sense like solemn 
mockery. Went to an Episcopal church in the afternoon, 
and saw them partake of the sacrament. I cannot say 
that I dislike their manner of receiving it, which was 
ve^y solemn. 

31. — I am safely brought to the close of the year. I 
could scarcely think, last year, that my hfe would be thus 
prolonged. What advancement have I made towards 
Zion ? If I should attempt to enumerate the many bene- 
fits received from my kind Benefactor, my attempt w^ould 
prove vain. And yet how ungrateful have I been ! I 
mourn for myself, but will not forget the state of the 
churches, which seem cold and dead. O God, have 
mercy on them ! 



40 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [Jan. 

Jan. 2y 1816. — I am surprised to find how much pride 
still remains in my heart — I, who of all human beings 
have the greatest cause to be humble. 

I have been spared to see the beginning of fourteen 
years — and how have I spent them ? My heart has been 
prone to evil, and I have too much followed wicked courses 
all my life. Few and evil have been the days of my 
childhood. A more frivolous mind than mine, I think, is 
scarcely ever found. But God's power is supreme. He 
can remove the night of sin, and impart the cheering light 
of day. It is now more than a year since the blessed time 
that he was pleased, in his boundless pity and compas- 
sion, to break my heavy yoke of sin — and, alas ! I have 
never yet given myself up to him publicly. Some of the 
reasons which prevent me are these : I fear my life would 
not be answerable to those solemn promises, and that I 
should eat and drink judgment to myself. My pride, both 
temporal and spiritual, and great backwardness, also keep 
me from this duty. I am sometimes almost persuaded 
that I have no interest in Christ. O that I could enjoy 
my Lord at his table ! 

9. — I am this day rejoicing in the God of my salvation ; 
but guilt, a heavy chain, will at times almost drag me 
down again, for I knov/ my duty, but neglect it. Alas ! 
my life is not like a christian's. This ungovernable tem- 
per will often rise. I mourn over my past life, and have 
this day resolved, and I trust not in my own strength, to 
do better for the future. With sorrow and shame I look 
on the years of my earliest childhood, when my mind was 
bent on vanity, though often warned by pious parents^ 



1816.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 41 

whose croGcl advice and gentle entreaties and warnings I 
can never repay, bat for which God will reward them. 

*' O could I once drive back the splieres 
And those dear lapsed hours recall, 
Wisdom should charm my growing years, 
And virtue guide them all."' 

But the sins I have committed since my heart was changed, 
I look upon as deservmg double the punishment of others. 
Many precious moments have been spent in vanity and 
dress. The world, which I once felt entirely weaned 
from, has engrossed my affections from a Saviour. 

1 1 . — Have spent much time lately in reading. O that 
God would make me to understand what I read ! Th 
Bible, through faith, is able to make me wise unto salva- 
tion. Blessed be God, who has given me a little time 
that I may thus spend. 

Feb. 3. — Have been quite happy to-day. Have lately 
been aroused from a dreadful state of stupidity. Christ 
has at length again appeared, to bring me joy. This hard 
heart is softened by love. 

'^ In darkest shades, if he appear 

My dawning is begun ; 
He is my souTs sweet morning star, 

And he my rising sun.'' 

Religion revives, and not in me alone ; we hear of re- 
vivals in our vicinity. 

TO MISS S. C. OF D. 

Dorchester, February 7, 1816. 
Dear Cousin — Pardon my early intrusion. I feel 

disposed to answer your kind letter at once, not knowino* 
6# 



4S DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. [Feb. 

what a day may bring forth. You say you are more en- 
gaged, and consequently more happy, than you have been. 
I rejoice with you, and rejoice the more because my feel- 
ings coincide with yours. Blessed be God, who thus 
bestows upon us a taste of heaven below. But our great- 
est happiness here is very imperfect in comparison with 
that above, where we shall see our compassionate Saviour, 
who once died for us on Calvary. 

" His head, the dear majestic head^ 

Which cruel thorns did wound, 
See what immortal glories shine 

And circle it around." 

Such blissful transports are too great for us to compre- 
hend in this earthly sphere. Why do sublunary enjoy- 
ments often dehght christians, who can enjoy a Saviour in 
their stead ? We have both, at times, I fear, chosen to 
place our affections upon such objects, and afterwards it 
has cost us deep anguish. I think the greatest blessing I 
now have to be thankful for, is that prayer is delightful. 
How willingly would I spend hours in the happy employ- 
ment. O how awfully have I been led astray from my 
God ! AVorldly company was the cause of it. But I 
hope I have been brought back to my Father's house. 
Those things I then delighted in, I now contemn ; and 
those things I then dreaded, have now become my chief 
enjoyment. Yet I would not boast of what I now enjoy. 
Sin may again get dominion over me for a season, for my 
mountain does not stand strong, and many and fierce are 
the enemies around me. Let us view the character of 
Godj ^nd endeavor to imitate him in all his iraitable per- 



1816.] DIARY AST) COnRESPOXDEXCE. 43 

fections. Let us keep faith always in exercise ; then no- 
thing can remove our joys. 

You have probably heard of revivals around us. and of 
the one at Springfield, in the parish of ^Ir. Osgood, for 
whom I have a peculiar regard, as being the means of 
confirming my faith in God. I liope I sliall see mv vrav 
clear to give m.yself up publicly to God. for which 1 beg 
your prayers. Yours afiectionately. s. h. c. 

17. — I have this day been reading the Life cf David 
Brainard. I admire his writings, r^othing suits my taste 
better than the private writings of exemplary christians. 

20. — I would ever pray that I may not be entirely de- 
prived of doubts, fears and aliiictions : for v^'hen not afBict- 
ed. I frequently go astray. Z\Iy aiSictions are tjius my 
greatest bles-ings : they procure for me peace, patience, 
love, joy in the Holy Ghost, courage, hope, liberty, and. 
in a word, life eternal, it was outvrard affliction that first 
caused me to seek the pearl of great price : it is affliction 
that makes me pray more earnestly ; it is doubts and 
temptations that increase my love to God. If I should 
live a hundred years. I would not be vritliout them. 

I admire Doddridge's Rise and Progress, and Divine 
Breathings of a Pious Soul — also Owen's and Jay's vrorks : 
but Watts's and Lathrop's sermons are the most pleasing, 
they are so open and fam.iliar. Bunyan beautifully re- 
presents the christian warfare. These, whh many other 
works, are my constant delight. 

•25. — Have read the Bible through in course as far as 
Acts, since the first of Januarv. Be2:an the ?Sew Testa- 



44 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [Feb, 

meiit on the 22d of this month. Lord, give me an un- 
derstanding heart. 

26. — My worthless name is, I trust, enrolled in the 
book of hfe. O what should 1 do without Christ ? He 
has now possession of my soul, which I was forced, in a 
distressing hour, to commit into his hands — and now it is 
safe. He will surely keep what I have committed to him, 
till the decisive hour. Then I shall meet in heaven those 
eminent saints — Flavel, Henry, Watts, Doddridge, and 
many others highly esteemed on earth. There shall I 
join to praise God with Mrs. Newell and Miss Woodbury. 
There shall I see my respected grandfather, with many 
other dear relatives. But all this will not constitute hea- 
ven ; God alone will excite my bliss, Jesus alone will be 
my joy. 

27. — Excluded from all the noise and bustle of the 
world, I greet the happy hour I am permitted to spend 
alone in my chamber. My mind is calm and serene, not 
possessed of transporting joys or deep sorrows. I feel my 
sins to be great, but know that Christ's blood can cleanse 
from all sin — and think I have the consolation, that in his 
strength I endeavor to be more devoted to his service. I 
now intend to take a retrospective view of things past, 
and appeal to God for his future direction. I shall soon 
arrive at the age of 14, if God pleases. Not knowing 
how my mind will then be employed, or what my circum- 
stances may be, as all things are uncertain, I intend re- 
viewing this day my past life, and recording some of the 
exercises of my mind which have not before been i^elated. 
At the age of 4 I began to learn to read, attended school. 



1816.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 45 

and constantly received religious instruction from my pious 
parents. My 5th year vras spent in the same manner. 
At 6, I at times thought seriously upon religious subjects, 
and at 7 still more so. Possessing naturally gi-eat diffi- 
dence. I did not make these feelings known. I felt sen- 
sible that I was wicked ; I knew there was a soul to be 
saved or lost, though I did not understand the vray of sal- 
vation through Christ. At 8, I was for a time possessed 
of an unceasing melancholy. v;hen the pleasures and 
amusements of the world afforded me no happiness. This 
dejection, however, at length disappeared, though I v;as 
still distressed through fear of death. At 9, continued in 
the same frame of mind. Death appeared terriblC; beyond 
expression. I was frequently afraid to sleep, lest I sliould 
awake in hell. These distresses were not abiding, but 
generally came at night, especially after a Sabbath, when 
I thouorht how wicked I had been the day before. An 
earnest desire of pardon was occasioned by the remarkable 
experience of a friend, which made a deep impression on 
my mind. I wished for the same joy and peace in be- 
lieving, and thought I should be brought out of my dark- 
ness in the same manner. I then loved to attend on the 
means of grace, and envied none their happiness but those 
who had obtained a pardon. About this time a sermon by 
Mr. C. o:reatlv increased mv desires and endeavors after 

CD ^ J 

holiness. The words of the text vrere — '^ At that great 
day of the feast, Jesus cried — if any man thirst, let him 
come unto me and drink." At 10, 1 had a form of rehg- 
ion. From manv texts of scripture I gained relief, and 
thought I was doing well. I retired every day to offer 



46 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [Feh, 

up prayer at the throne of grace, but do not think that 
these petitions ever availed anything, because the heart 
was not with them. My distress still came at different 
periods, and it grieved me that I could not freely converse 
upon religion. I wished for the prosperity of Zion, and 
generally attended a weekly meeting of pious females with 
a christian friend. Their conversation and prayers were 
great means of making me search diligently for the pearl 
of great price, and from them I gained much light and in- 
struction. There was nothing in which I took more delight 
than in attending these private meetings, but was even 
then a little ashamed of the gospel of Christ. I very often 
went from them with a heart almost broken for sin. I 
ardently wished to be a christian, and searched the scrip- 
tures daily. At 11, my convictions did not much abate. 
The death of my pious and w^orthy grandfather* deeply 
affected me. I thought of his counsel to me and of his 
happy death, and earnestly desired to be good like him. 
At the age of 12 I was more in the society of the world, 
and tried to forget religion and restrain prayer before God. 
In the beginning of August, 1814, 1 w^as seized with deep 
convictions, occasioned by a heavy clap of thunder. Then 
the Holy Spirit, which I had so often resisted, came with 
such power that I w^as obliged to yield. My convictions 
were such that I could not suppress them. 

O never, methinks, never shall I forget that season. 
Not till I forget rehgion, shall I cease to remember those 
struggles, those sighs and overflowing tears. On that 

* Deacon Jonathan Capen, of gtoughton, who died Way 29th, 18] 3, aged 89, 



J816.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 47 

memorable night I retired to rest, though for some hours 
there was no rest for me. I cherished the purpose of 
opening my mind to my mother, with w^honi I was to pass 
the night ; and as I told my sorrow^s, I found some relief. 
A promise mentioned by her gave me much comfort — 
'' They that seek me early shall find me.^^ A sermon by 
Mr. Osgood, in October, conveyed more permanent com- 
fort to my w^eary soul ; but possessed, as before remarked, 
of great diffidence in conversation, my joys, like my for- 
mer distress, w^ere not transported abroad. Mr. Bates's 
sermon soon after confirmed my hopes and belief in the 
Redeemer. It w^as then 1 felt that joy which overbalances 
all others, and which I would not part with for millions of 
W'Orlds. Several months before this, I began to WTite 
upon religious subjects ; but fearing they would be seen, I 
destroyed the papers. A correspondence had been car- 
ried on with several of my acquaintance upon trifling and 
unimportant subjects, but I could continue this no longer. 
If I wrote either for my own edification or that of others, 
it must be upon the subject I esteemed the most impor- 
tant — rehgion must be the theme. I therefore introduced 
it to my young friends, w^iich procured me ridicule from 
some of them, though not in my presence. 

Thus far have I traced my feelings. How^ shall I praise 
God enough for manifesting himself to me, and pouring 
consolation into my soul ? O that I had paid as much 
attention to this most important of concerns, since my 
conversion, as I should have done ! Alas ! I have pur- 
sued other paths ; I have forsaken the fountain of living 
w^aters ; I have been too fond of the vain things of time 



48 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN* [March, 

and sense. I find cause for the deepest humiliation when 
I consider my past life. Notwithstanding all my privi- 
leges, I have been a stubborn and rebellious child. 

29, — Yesterday I finished reading the Bible, and think 
1 can say I have this time read it to some profit. 1 in- 
tend to begin it again. 

TO Miss R. W. OF R, 

Dorchester, March 3, 1816. 
Dear R. — Agreeably to your desire and my own in- 
clination, I take my pen to inscribe the feelings of my 
heart. — We must not expect to be always happy, for no- 
thing is more sure than disappointments. The moment 
we begin to imagine our happiness secure, the airy phan- 
tom, eludes our grasp and flies from before our sight. 
Well, my friend, this world is not our home, and troubles 
are useful to us as far as they teach us to place depend- 
ence only on things above. We must look beyond this 
world, and if we have no hope of happiness there, we are 
miserable indeed. The christian life is a warfare. The 
world will often engross our affections ; but it is in our 
pow^er, by the assistance of the Holy Spirit, to conquer 
this evil. What occasions all this remissness in religion ? 
Why do we retain evil thoughts and wicked imaginations ? 
Why are not all our evil passions subdued? All this 
arises from our little faith and neglect of prayer. If these 
graces were always in exercise, according to our Saviour's 
command, I think we should feel little of this languid 
frame ; instead of evil thoughts, joys supernal would fill the 
mind. Let us then exercise faith in our Redeemer, and 



1816.] 



DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 49 



be frequent in prayer. Prayer is the breath of a christian. 
— We should endeavor to make our calhng and election 
sure. What an awful, inconceivably awful thing it w^ould 
be to deceive ourselves and others until a dying hour ! 
What aw^ful reflections will then rend our distracted hearts ! 
Or, if w^e should die in the deception, how^ incomprehen- 
sibly dreadful would it be in the eternal world to awake 
to the dread reality ! Let us therefore try our hearts by 
every evidence in our pow er, and let us strive, in our let- 
ters at least, to keep ahve neglected and dying self- 
examination, s. H. c. 

TO MISS S. C. OF D. 

Doi'cliesler, March 5, 1816. 
What a happy thing it is that this world is not to be 
our eternal home — that we can have this consolation, that 
there is a place of infinite delight prepared for those who 
are ingrafted into Christ. When you think of this, is not 
your soul enraptured, and does it not sweeten even the 
bitterest cup ? I think you must have experienced the 
vanity of this world, and the foohshness of depending upon 
it for one moment's comfort. Your trouble, I know^, is 
great ; yet your w ay is marked out by an all-w ise Provi- 
dence, who can look beyond the extent of our humble 
vision and see that all these things are for your good. 
God can sw^eeten the waters of Marah ; he can give us 
continual comfort instead of any sorrow^ whatever. But 
this w^ould not be for our good : it is w^ell for us to bear 
the yoke — it is well for us to be afflicted. If ycu could 
always feel that it was God who sent your trouble, and 
7 



50 aiDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [MarcKj 

that it was purely for your good, would you ever com- 
plain ? If you were sensible it was for bis glory you suffer 
tbis anxiety of mind, would you not be willing to bear 
double ibe anguisb ? O think in bow short a lime your 
sou will quit this tabernacle of clay, and ascend to heaven. 
Every trouble — every joy — carries you nearer that eter- 
nal world ; and the more afflictions you have here, the 
more happiness you will enjoy there. There you will 
see the Saviour as he is, and all the holy angels. There 
you will see the saints made perfect, and you will bend 
with them at the throne of the blessed Trinity in infinite 
and unceasing joy and delight. O how incomprehensible 
are these great truths ! When thousands of thousands 
and millions of millions of years have run their rounds, 
the inexpressible happiness and felicity of heaven will be, 
as it were, but just begun. How am.azlng is the thought I 
But perhaps you doubt your title to this bhss. O do not 
doubt. Satan will tempt, but let him tempt in vain. If 
your soul is only in Jesus's hands, you can never be lost. 
Only cast your all upon him, trusting in him and living a 
life devoted to his service, and you have nothing to fear. 
Perhaps you will say I have taken upon me more than 
I ought, to instruct you who are so much older and l:ave 
so much more knowledge than I have. But as I think it 
is nothing but truth that I inscribe, you will not contempt- 
uously th.row it aside and say — I need none of your ad- 
vice. Christ went to John to be baptized, who needed 
to have been baptized of him ; and we must follow his 
example. When in affliction, we are apt to forget who 
it is that orders all these things for us ; you will therefore. 



1816.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 51 

I hope, permit a suggestion, though from one beneath 
you. I trust you will avoid murmuring and complaining, 
and will cheerfully resign yourself to the will of a holy 
God, and let others know that you have a God who can 
give you coa:ifort even in affliction, that they may seek 
him also. — What a blessed thing it is to enjoy religion^ — 
the only thing in which true happiness consists. What 
should we do without it ? Let us exert every power in 
extending^ its influence over the souls of others. We 
must mingle with the world, and at such times I have not 
freedom to drop a word about spiritual things, and there- 
fore set a bad example before those who are continually 
watching^ me. O that I could be clear from the world ! 

^' But what avails a wish so vain, 
Or what relief can hence ensue ?" 

I ought to be submissive to the will of God. I solicit an 
interest in your prayers. Farewell. s. h. c. 

8. — Yesterday read Hervey's Meditations among the 
Tombs. Found them excellent, beyond my expectation. 

11- — Mr. H., of Boston^ preached yesterday, which 
w^as communion Sabbath. He convinced me that it was 
my duty to come into full communion with the visible 
church. In wiiat a sad situation is the church at this 
time. It makes my heart bleed. We do not see Zion's 
prosperity in this place. God wonderfully displays his 
goodness and mercy around us, and we shall not, I think, 
be forsaken. No, prayers will not be offered in vain for 
so good a cause. 

I have for some time made it a rule to devote two days 



52 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [Marcfl, 

every month almost entirely to the delightful employment 
of writing. I have often retired to my chamber, cast 
down and distressed, for this purpose, and left it rejoicing 
and praising God. I bless God that I was ever led to 
transmit my daily experience to paper. 

15. — I have this week been reading Wesley's Imitation 
of Christ, and find it excellent. I have lately read Fla- 
vins Josephus's works, which are very interesting. I find 
Baxter's works are excellent, especially his Saint's Rest. 
Fox's Book of Martyrs is shocking ; yet there is something 
peculiar in it — such love as they had for Christ, such he- 
roic resolution, that I cannot but admire it. 

23. — Mrs. C, one of our neighbors, is very ill. But 
her distress will soon be over ; she will be released, and 
her happy spirit will go where Jesus is. I envy her situ- 
ation. She has ever expressed, under her most excru- 
ciating sufferings, the greatest degree of patience and 
humble submission ; never has a murmuring v/ord escaped 
her hps ; all is peace and tranquilhty. She says Gcd's 
will is right. 

26. — Yesterday I began Buck on Experience. I found 
it excellent beyond expression, especially the young 
christian's experience. My soul is elevated with the 
sweetest emotions Vv^hile reading the happy experience of 
christians. Sometim.es it carries all my thoughts and feel- 
ings upwards, and fills me with heavenly ardor ; at others, 
it puts me in mind of my past experience — my backslld- 
ings, my returnings — and fills my mouth with praise ; and 
in every part I find something recorded which I have felt. 
Yet this is a book which, strange to relate, I once des- 



1816.] 



DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 53 



plsed. 1 thought it altogether insipid, and refused to read 
it. But now I think, of all the books I have read, there 
is no one so interesting, the Bible only excepted, as Buck 
on Experience. 

31. — Am reading the Memoirs of Mrs. H. Ne\Yell. 
Rer experience was so much hke my own, and at the 
same age, that it cannot but be interesting to me ; but in 
her after hfe I would not presume to compare myself with 
her, in every respect so much my superior. But by the 
Sfrace of God, 1 am what I am. 

TO Miss S. C. W. 

Dorchester^ March 31, 1816. 

Dear Friend — I thank you for your kind letter, and 
the privilege you have given me of writing to you. I ea- 
gerly embrace the present opportunity, and with pleasure 
will transmit to you some of the recent dealings of God 
with my soul. I fear I have wounded Immanuel's cause, 
which I ought to honor. O that the thoughts of my for- 
mer disobedience might stimulate me to prayer, and make 
me strive to adorn in future that holy cause. I often 
anticipate the time w^hen, in riper age, I shall feel more 
of the enlivening power of God'^ grace, and be more use- 
ful ; w^hen I shall be more established, and have more 
knowledge of divine subjects. 

But a iew months have elapsed since I was cold and 
stupid. I sought not the company of christians, religious 
exercises were irksome, and my gay companions were 
embraced with delight. But I hope God has vouchsafed 

again to manifest his love in convincing me of my danger. 

7# 



54 HIDBEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [March, 

I had recourse to prayer, and gained relief, but shall al- 
ways look back to those dangerous backslidings with deep 
regret. Now I feel an ardent love to God, and his image 
wherever it is found. I earnestly hope for the prosperity 
of Zion, and love the company of christians. Religion is 
a theme on which I love to think, write and CGiiYe-?e3 ^nd 
my greatest aim is to improve and be the means of the 
improvement of others. I have found the christian life to 
be an incessant warfare. Immense evils will present them- 
selves in the appearance of graces. But I find religion 
infinitely worthy my unwearied pursuit. Although temp- 
tations and fears are various and frequent, yet as various 
and frequent are the christian's joys ; and even when we 
doubt, we have a faint ghmmering hope which we would 
not be constrained to part with — and when we rejoice, all 
is calm and serene, without a single fear. 

A kind Providence ordains our lot, and every joy, every 
trouble, temptation and fear, brings us nearer our eternal 
rest. Is not this encouraging ? I feel wilhng to endure 
the scandal and ridicule of the w^orld, considering the joy 
that will soon follow. But can one so insensible, so cold 
and negligent, be heir to immortal glory ? When I look 
back I see constant commission of sin. If I take a view of 
my heart, even in my present situation, I still find sin. 
And yet I dare to hope, through the Saviour's merits, for 
admission into those heavenly mansions which he has pre- 
pared. In the midst of distressing trials, as they gather 
thick around me, I can at times, with cheerful resignation, 
look up and say — '^ Not my will, but thine, be done " ; 
while at othei^ times I feel none of this happy composure, 



1816.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 55 

and think God has forsaken me. Are you subject to such 
alternations^, or do you always feel one degree of happi- 
ness ? Are you ever tempted to restrain prayer ? and 
when in this exercise, do you ever feel languid ? and while 
the words flow from your lips, do you never find your 
thoughts have been on something vastly different ? It has 
been so with me. Will you permit me an interest in your 
intercessions at the throne of grace, though entirely un- 
deserving. 

Though many billows arise and threaten our feeble 
bark, yet I trust ere long some favorable vx ind will waft 
us to that happy shore where sighs and sorrows will never 
come. Till that happy time, I remain 

Yours, affectionately. s. h. c, 

April 3. — -Have just laid down Rochefoucault's Max- 
ims, which I have been engaged in reading. Have begun 
Pike and Hay ward's Cases of Conscience. I think, by - 
the contents of this book, it must be very searching, and 
such an one as I have long been wishing to read. 

When shall I enjoy the pure and uninterrupted light of 
Immanuel's countenance ? But in this world I cannot 
expect it. I must encounter doubts and temptations, 
w^iich at present are not joyous but grievous. Yes, the 
night Cometh, and also the day. But is a christian ever 
possessed of so much pride as inilates this heart ? Can a 
true christian be so undutiful, and have his thoughts and 
affections so much upon earthly things ? Ah, wTCtched 
delinquent, thus to offend that holy Being, and add fresh 
wounds to that Saviour who said his soul was '' exceeding 



56 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [April, 

sorrowful, even unto death.'' '^ Show pity, Lord — O 
Lord, forgive." 

16. — I have lono; nedected this book, on account of 
company. I have lately been much with the people of 
the world. Blessed be God, who does not suffer their 
company to dispel all religious inclinations. Yesterday, 
on my return home, after quitting my gay and thoughtless 
companions, I enjoyed a sweet time in communion with 
God. I found the place of prayer delightful, and poured 
out my w^hole soul to him. After I arose, I was enabled 
to gain satisfaction in close examination of my heart. 

21. — How^ entertainino; are the writino;s of Mrs. Newell. 
How much she underwent ; what strong faith, renewed 
zeal and resolution, must she have possessed. After read- 
ing her letters and diary, one would scarcely think liiui- 
self a personal stranger to her. O that I could attain 
that pleasing style in which she writes. 

23. — It is impossible to thrive in grace and be unneces- 
sarily connected wltli the world. I find, by experience, 
they are vastly different the one from the other ; and every 
day I see more and more plainly the truth of Christ's 
words — '^ Ye cannot serve God and Mammon." lam 
called to visit my gay associates, and to-morrow expect to 
be with my dear C. ; but O, how much more fervent 
would be my love for her — with how many tender ties 
would my heart be united to hers, if I could converse 
with her upon the only subject of consolation to the be- 
liever. O why do I desire company, when it so often 
proves an injury to my soul's health, by engrossing my. 
affections from Immanuel ? 



1816.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 5t 

TO MISS R. AV. 

Dorchester^ Aprils 181G. 

Dear R. — I received your letter with pleasure^ and 
resolved to answer it immediately. 

Now in the morning of life, when no worldly cares 
press upon our minds, we ought to study to improve our- 
selves and to be useful to others. Now that we have 
time, let us learn the example of our blessed Redeemer, 
that we may in after years be a shining light and a bright 
example to inquiring souls. Much good might be done, 
and much benefit received to ourselves, from such re- 
solves. Our time is precious, and should be spent to^the 
best advantag;e, as the nio-ht of death soon cometh. No 
more, then, shall we have opportunities of doing good, or 
of preparing for a happy eternity. Every moment we 
ought to be ready to die, for every moment we are in 
danger. Our last breath w^ill soon be drawn, our journey 
ended, our home reached — and O may it be a happy 
home. I\lay we meet our Lord with smiles in his face, 
and in due time may we be united in perfect unison with 
all our relatives and friends. Till then, and forever, 1 
hope to remain your sincere friend. s. h. c. 

May 10. — 1 have now^ come to the conclusion of 14 
years, and how has this time been spent ? I hope for 
grace to spend my remaining days more in the service 
of God. 

11. — O what a day I spent yesterday, and yet never 
was sensible of my conduct until my mother told me, in 
the evening, she thought I had been uncommonly rude all 



58 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [May, 

day. O vain, wicked heart ! Is a birthday kept In such 
a manner acceptable to God ? Instead of praising him 
for the preservation of my life and health, and all the nu- 
merous blessings I have received the year past, I have 
iieo-lected him more than ever. Distressino; thouo;ht ! 
What would those say who have entertained hopes of 
me, and with whom I have lately kept a day of fasting 
and prayer ? And would not the people of the world say 
— This is w^hat we have looked for ; It Is the way with 
converts — they set out fair at first, but soon their religion 
disappears like the morning cloud and the early dew. A 
minister told us in the pulpit, not long since, that a christ- 
ian might do only one thing before the world, for which 
several years of exemplary piety would not atone. I 
shudder to think that perhaps this is now the case with me, 

TO MISS S. C. OF D. 

Dorchester, May 12, 1816. 
Agreeably to our custom and my own inclination, I re- 
sume my pen to transcribe a few lines to you. O that I 
could tell you I lived In the full enjoyment of God. But 
it is not thus. O, S., I find, by experience, that it Is im- 
possible to enjoy God and neglect prayer. I always feel 
jealous of that joy w^ilch I have not prayed for. Prayer 
is the breath, the life of a christian. Like a child in a 
strange land, we are obhged to beg or starve. When w^e 
kneel down and find our affections cold and our desires 
languishing, is it not best to arise and take the Bible, or 
some other good book that excites pure desires, ardent 
devotion, and love to the Redeemer? Would not this 



J816.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 59 

tend to make us more engaged ? In my opinion we 
should seldom find it fail to make us enter upon the duty 
with pleasure, arise with joy and love, and go into the 
world with a heart more devoted to God. 

You wrote in your last, that for a season you felt very 
happy, and expressed a wish that you always could. But 
do you think it is best ? I know this is a wish incident 
to us ; but frail nature, always w^ishing and longing, knov/s 
not, in such seasons, on what first to fix her attention. It 
does not stop to ask the plain question, comprised in three 
w^ords — Is it best ? If it did, how many evils would be 
excluded from us in these happy frames. We are then 
still liable to sin. Not contented with our present duties^ 
with our humble sphere, w^e wish to be all over the world 
and tell others of a Saviour's love. We are not contented 
with anything ; we cannot praise enough, we cannot enjoy 
enough — all is inadequate. But when we are not thus 
elevated, and our desires are less intense, you know by 
experience we strive for devotional feelings, and are more 
likely to live in a proper frame of spirit. What do you 
think of this subject ? I trust you will read my opinion 
with candor. 

I agree with you concerning revivals. Is it not a con- 
solation, that if this town is not yet visited with the out- 
pourings of divine grace, our vicinity is richly blessed with 
then. — Write soon, and permit the most unworthy of sin- 
ners a place in your intercessions. s. h. c. 

22. — With a burdened mind I come to my chamber, 
repair to the usual place for writing, and transmit to paper 



60 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. [MaiJ, 

my anxious thoughts. '^ Who," said my cousin R. yes- 
terday, ^^ can be happier than you ? with no cares to bur- 
den your mind, and nothing to vex or trouble you." But 
she did not know the secret anxiety of my heart. I know 
1 have much to be thankful for, but surely am not exempt 
from trouble. But could I keep ray heart fixed on Jesus 
— could I constantly, through all the chequered scenes of 
life, bless God with my heart and tongue, I should be far 
happier than I now am. 

TO MISS S. C. OF D. 

Dorchester, May 31, 1816. 
I read your letter yesterday with a great degree of 
pleasure, and hasten to thank you for your kind advice 
and instruction. As to leaving Dorchester this summer, 
it is uncertain at present. The thought of a separation 
from a sister in Christ whom I now often see and converse 
with, and with whom I frequently walk to the house of 
God and take sweet counsel, is indeed unpleasant ; but I 
hope we shall often meet at the throne of grace, and that 
a better Friend will be with us than we can possibly find 
on earth. You will join with -me, and say it is better to 
have Christ for a friend than the whole universe without 
him. — -Have attended a lecture this afternoon. Mr. Fay 
preached an excellent sermon from Isaiah xxxii. 2. He 
said much concerning Christ being our rock — our place of 
safety, and I admired one of his comparisons. A man, 
said he, in the deserts of Arabia, walking on the burning 
sands, under the scorching sun, pants and longs for a cool 
draught, a refreshing breeze. He looks on every side, 



J816.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 6l 

but in v^ain. At length he espies an overbending rock, 
which produces a pleasant shade ; and from that same 
rock flows, in gentle streams, pure water to allay his thirst. 
This, said he, is like Christ to the burdened soul. 

How swift time moves, and bears us towards the grave. 
A few more fleeting days, and we shall be in eternity. 
Then why are we careful and troubled about many things 
w^iich are altogether unprofitable ? Why should we not 
choose that good part w^hich will produce eternal happi* 
ness ? Why can we not let w^orldly anxieties go from 
our minds, and have our thoughts intently fixed on the 
beginning, the progress, and the end of our faith ? It is 
not with us as it was in times past. We once, in our so- 
cial visits, made rehgion the theme of our discourse, and 
praised our Maker together. But now, alas ! how much 
more of our time is spent in earthly concerns than in spir- 
itual, and what shall we answer at the tribunal of God for 
this ? Our privileges are now the same ; as to conveni- 
ence, that is the sam.e ; and as to knowdedge, we probably 
have more : and yet we neglect God more. What is the 
occasion of this ? Do we think we have secured our own 
souls' salvation, and that we may now sit at our ease ? If 
so, w^e certainly are in danger. Let us pray God that the 
precious time given us to prepare for a happy eternity 
may not be lavished on fleeting amusements. s. h. c. 

TO MISS H. C. OF S. 

Dorchester^ June 2, 1816. 
Dear H. — I take my pen to address you, hoping that 
my fondness for writing will apologize for this early intru- 
8 



62 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [JunCy 

sion. ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ Religion ig certainly worthy of our 
deepest investigation. Let us go to the oldest saint^ one 
who has met with many troubles and disquietudes, many 
of these even on account of his rehgion, and ask him if he 
wishes he had never chosen Christ for his guide. I think 
he would say that religion lightens all his trials, and is 
more to be desired than the applauses and flatteries of the 
world. I find, for myself, it is not enough to enjoy the 
world, for I must soon die and leave it ; and in a dying 
hour, in the last struggle, when the help of all earthly 
friends ceases, then the world, with all its pleasures, will 
also be powerless to assist. It is but a few years that I 
shall continue here, and then there is an eternity to spend 
either in heaven or hell. The Bible tells me that by na- 
ture I am a lost and undone sinner, but points out a way 
of salvation through Christ. If I give myself up to him, 
and with a repenting heart rely on his grace for salvation, 
resolving in his strength to live a new life conformed to 
his law, I shall be saved. I trust I have thus given my- 
self up to him, but acknowledge with shame that I have 
not obeyed his laws as I should have done. My sins are 
my greatest trouble. But I think I have enjoyed religion, 
and can say that wisdom's ways are pleasantness. I in- 
tend, therefore, to tread this path. 

I have now told you my choice and my intention, and 
will you tell me, H., what you intend to do ? Do you 
intend to enjoy the pleasures of the world for your por- 
tion, or will you also choose Christ ? If the latter, then 
I think you will like to write and converse on the subject. 
I remain, Yours, affectionately. s. h. c. 



1816.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 63 

June 7. — I have just laid down Hemmenway on Christ- 
ian Baptism. Find it such a book as I have often de- 
sired to see. I have prayed that my mind might be 
enhghtened on this subject, and I think this book, by the 
help of God, will do it. 

TO MISS s. c. w. 

Dorchester^ June 7, 1816. 

Dear S. — Musing on the contents of your last instruc- 
tive letter, and your choice of the subject of our letters, I 
felt inclined to beg the favor of you to throw some light 
on my mind respecting the doctrine of election and the 
decrees of God. Certain parts of this subject have lately 
appeared very dark to me, especially this : — It is often 
said the sinner may repent w^hen he pleases ; it is also 
said, and in Scripture, that of ourselves we can do no- 
thing — God must do it for us. This seems contradictory. 
I know our threatened punishment is just — we have sins 
enough to ruin our souls ; but if we cannot repent of our- 
selves, how can the neglect be imputed to us as a sin ? 
You will perhaps wonder at my ignorance. This subject 
once seemed plain to me, or perhaps 1 did not thoroughly 
examine it. If you think it of consequence to free my 
mind from doubts of this kind, and perhaps from sin, you 
will do me the kindness to write a few lines in your next 
upon this subject. 

Our thoughts may profitably be turned on charity — the 
first and greatest of christian graces. " Charity sufFereth 
long and is kind ; ^' and I think the deficiency of this grace 
is the cause of many of the divisions among behevers. 



64 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [June, 

How faintly does it often shine through their deportment. 
I am often shocked to hear it said by christians of one and 
another, " they have no rehgion " — " such an one is not 
a christian." Charity for different sects of christians, I 
think, ought to be far oftener exhibited than it is. '' Charity 
hopeth and endureth all things." s. h. c. 

10. — Yesterday enjoyed a pleasant Sabbath. Was ena- 
bled to wrestle with God for a blessing in the morning. 
After meeting was closed, repaired to the house of mourn- 
ing. It was indeed such. Mrs. S. was last Sabbath in 
health, but has since been snatched suddenly from this 
sinful world to meet her dearest Saviour. But though we 
mourned not as those who have no hope, it was a melan- 
choly sight indeed to see three little orphans follow to 
the grave their last resource of earthly comfort. They 
are now left on the world's wide stage, with no friend able 
to do for them as much as their wants require. Her pious 
counsels, I hope, will not be forgotten. Will God be a 
father and protector to them. 

12.'^A dancing school has lately been commenced in 
our neighborhood, which C. attends. I wish her mind 
was more serious. Not that I think dancing a great crime 
-r— but that such a school is, of all schools, the most likely 
to wean the mind from all serious tliought. Her reply is, 
OVU' time might be much worse spent. But such an ex- 
cuse, I think, will dwindle into nothing at the great tribu- 
nal. O that she was converted. I think I should not 
rejoice more for any one person than I should for her, 
and I have lately resolved to pray daily and ardently in 
her behalf. 



1816.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 65 

25. — Have lately been reading the Life of Mr. Joseph 
C. Frey, and Cotton on Baptism, as well as several other 
interestino; works : but I fear I have too much nedected 
the Bible. 

July 2. — We have glorious and inestimable privileges. 
Had a lecture last week on Thursday, Friday and Satur- 
day evenings, and seven meetings on the Sabbath at such 
times that we could attend them all. 

8. — I loner to be useful to others, instead of a stumblins; 
block. How can I bear to look back in a dying hour and 
see that I have hved entirely useless, and consequently a 
cumberer of the ground ? I often say I have no opportu- 
nity ; but this excuse, I find, will not do. If I cannot do 
the good I wish to the souls of others, yet I can occasion- 
ally give one mite to supply their temporal wants. Why 
may I not lop off some superfluities and give to those who 
need ? Why am I so selfish as to keep what can be dis- 
pensed with, while the dear disciples of Christ suffer for 
the want of it ? Thouoh abundance of wealth is not mine, 
and indeed but very little can be called my own, yet I 
know something might be saved, if only from dress. But, 
alas ! my heart is hard and desperately wicked. 

More attended our morning meeting, yesterday, than 
usual. I could scarcely avoid shedding tears for joy to 
see the large concourse of people. — I do not feel that en- 
gagedness in religion which I wish. I can easily trace 
the cause to being with vain company, and thereby pre- 
vented from pouring out my soul to God. I think I can 
say I never gained near access to the throne of grace, 
8* 



66 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [^/^^^ 

without rising from my knees happy in the full triumph 
of faith. O what a weapon is prayer! 

19. — Have this morning thought seriously, and con- 
versed with my mother, about giving myself up publicly 
to God, in a covenant never to be broken. O, it is a great, 
a very great undertaking. I want to tell Mr. C. my 
mind, and receive his advice. 



TO Miss S. C. OF D. 

Dorchester^ July 19, 1816. 
Dear Cousin — With pleasure 1 resume my paper and 
pen to tell you the exercises of my heart — to unbosom to 
you that which I have long kept as a secret. I do se- 
riously think of giving myself publicly to God. I think 
the fear of man — the dread of ridicule from my young 
companions — -has made me neglect this duty ; but this 
must be overcome. Shall I be ashamed of Christ, my 
Saviour — my all ? Alas ! this is not right. The sermon 
last Wednesday evening seemed to rouse me from this 
awful state of stupidity. I saw my duty plainly, and 
cared not for ridicule or reproach. The greatest obstacle 
now is my light conduct, and fear of turning back to the 
world. But God is able to keep me, and if I am a child 
of his I shall not be permitted to go back again. What do 
you say ? I need the advice of all. My mother makes 
no objections. 1 do not feel worthy, but depend on Christ, 
whose grace is sufficient for me. It requires much close 
examination, and 1 wish to have others examine me, for I 
fear I am too partial. I must reluctantly say adieu, after 
requesting an interest in your prayers, s. ii. c. 



1816.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 67 

20. — I am deprived this day, by indisposition of body, 
of visiting the sanctuary of God. The spirit is willing, 
but the flesh is weak. Yet God is net confined to that 
tabernacle ; I may enjoy him here. For four months I 
think I have attended meeting every Sabbath, and a lec- 
ture or conference nearly every week. O that tlie heathen 
enjoyed one half my privileges. 

26. — Conversed with Mr. C. last evening upon the 
solemn subject of commAmion with Christ at his table. 
Found him perfectly willing to receive me, God grant 
I may never bring disgrace upon that cause on which all 
my hopes of eternal happiness depend. 

28. — Jesus, for w^hom I have sought, blessed be thy 
holy name that thou hast vouchsafed again to restore the 
light of thy countenance, which alone can cheer mjy heart 
in this dark valley of gloom. Divine light has again bro- 
ken through the clouds of sin, into this benighted soul. 1 
sought thee on every side, unconscious that thou wast so 
near. O Lord, tarry with me ; and though undeserving, 
yet still let me be blest w^ith thy sm^iles — let me sit at thy 
feet, and bid all the cares of the world depart. 

Aug, 14. — Mr. C. encourages me to church comimu- 
nion. But it is possible I may be deceived. Not long 
since, on reflecting upon my wicked heart, I relinquished 
all hope. But Mr. C. and my mother have encouraged 
me to go forward. 

19. — Doubts, fears, cares and vanity, employ my time. 
Of what use is such a life ? Of what service at present 
am I to any person, or to my God ? The thought of hv- 
ing a useless life is almost insupportable. But I consider 



68 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. ['^Ug. 

doubts, fears and anxieties respecting a future state, better 
than stupidity and insensibility ; nothing is more to be 
dreaded than these. I have always thought that there 
was no christian who had not at times some doubts ; but 
a few days since I found it recorded in the Memoirs of Dr. 
Conzers, of England, that for eighty years, which was as 
long as he lived after he was converted, he never had a 
single doubt. 

TO MISS S. C. W. 

Dorchester, Jliigust 22, 1816. 
Dear S. — Accept my thanks for your last instructive 
letter. I consider it a high privilege to correspond with 
one who is thus able to edify me. 1 wish to know your 
mind upon another topic — which is, whether a person may 
truly repent of sin and be converted, and yet afterwards 
fall entirely away and die in sin. It is the opinion of 
some that this may be the case ; but I cannot think it 
consistent with the nature of God to permit it so to be. 
Paul speaks of this in his epistle to the Hebrews, where 
he says — " It is impossible for those who were once en- 
lightened, and have tasted the heavenly gift, and were 
made partakers of the Holy Ghost, and have tasted the 
good word of God and the powers of the world to come, 
if they should fall away to renew them again unto repent- 
ance, seeing they crucify to themselves the Son of God 
afresh, and put him to open shame." But this does not 
decide the question ; it only asserts that if we do fall aw^ay, 
it is impossible again to be restored. Christ says in John 
— ^' I am the door ; by me if any man enter in, he shall 



1816.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 69 

be saved, and shall go in and out and find pasture " ; inti- 
mating that if we once entered in, we should certainly be 
saved. And in another verse he says — '' And I give unto 
them eternal life, and they shall never perish " ; and 
again — " All that the Father giveth me shall come to me, 
and him that cometh to me I will in no wise cast out." 
But notwithstanding these and numerous similar promises, 
many believe that we may fall from true grace. It seems 
astonishing to think that that which shines so conspicuous 
in believers, and for which many sacrifice everything and 
submit to a hfe of hardships, can be always liable to dwin- 
dle entirely away. It seems, Hkewise, discouraging. 1 shall 
confide in your judgment. Write soon, overlook errors, 
and bear with one who knows not enough to refrain from 
asking questions. I request an interest in your prayers, 
and remain your sincere friend. s. h. c. 

23. — I am now reading Hervey's Meditations. How 
he paints every scene in its hveliest and gayest colors, as 
if all nature was made to charm the eye. I like his Dia- 
logues, and think all his writings very interesting. 

26. — Attended meeting yesterday — a communion Sab- 
bath. I was a spectator of the sacramental scene proba- 
bly for the last time. Happy, yet solemn thought. I 
fear I shall wound that glorious cause. I fear that I am 
deceived and shall go back again — or, what is equally as 
awful, that I shall die in this condition. What could be 
dreaded more than such a deception ? Yet I have search- 
ed my heart, and, as far as 1 can discern my afiections, I 
do love God and holiness. 



70 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. ['^Ug. 

28. — Have felt more engaged these few days past, than 
I have for some time, though in some degree doubtful of 
my sincerity. Is there not a possibility of a person think- 
ing himself worse than he is ? 

30. — I think my chamber richly furnished. My Bible 
is the greatest ornament. How much richer a treasure 
than a cabinet of gold or silver ! Next to this, the " Clo- 
set Companion," which penetrates the inmost recesses of 
my heart. Watts's Psalms and Hymns come next, some 
of which always express the feelings of my soul. But 
the Treasure of treasures, and the richest of all, is my 
God — my Saviour. In him I find something to alleviate 
sorrow, lessen distress, and make me sing for joy. 

31. — If it is not for me to experience constant and ex- 
tatic joys, I must not strive for them. 

" 'Tis all in vain to seek for bliss, 

For bliss can ne'er be found 
Till we arrive where Jesus is 

And tread on heavenly ground." 

My joys have always been of short duration. A sweet 
serenity is all I am long permitted to feel — often doubting, 
and sometimes for a little while almost overjoyed. But 
blessed be God that I am not always in the dark. How 
different are the feelings of God's children. Some scarce- 
ly ever entertain a doubt, while others are comparatively 
always doubting. When I dwell upon the love of God 
and the happiness of heaven, I generally enjoy the most; 
but when I think of my own vileness, pride and insuffi- 
ciency, the many snares around, how liable I am to fall, 
and the possibility of being deceived, I tremble for myself. 



1816.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDKNCE. 71 

Christians being satisfied with me does not give me much 
comfortj because they do not know my heart. Yet when 
I hear or read the evidences of true repentance, I think, 
after close examination, that I have felt them. I think I 
love Christ. I delight in the company of christians, in 
good books, and the house of God, and I must still enter- 
tain a hope that I am a child of his. 

Sept. 3. — Philip Henry used to say that he could more 
easily bring himself to travel far and hear many sermons, 
than to spend one half hour in close meditation. And this 
is certainly the case wdth myself. Vain thoughts will rush 
in ; and while meditating, before I am aware my thoughts 
are roving to the ends of the earth. 

4. — S. and myself have opened a weekly prayer meet- 
ing. We have reflected upon the many hours spent in 
vain conversation — how we have sat together hour after 
hour, and never spoken of God, of heaven, and our souls' 
salvation — and we have resolved no longer thus to spend 
our precious moments, but never to pass together another 
half hour without speaking of these important subjects. 
We do not wish any one to join us at present in our prayer 
meetings, but after a while w^e hope our rooni will be full. 

6. — How difficult it is to distinguish inclination from 
duty. Here we need particular direction from God. 
The christian life is a warfare. Within our hearts is a little 
army of graces, and a great army of sins and temptations, 
and they are always fighting. But this little army can do 
greater exploits with the weapons of prayer and faith, than 
the other can do, w^ho cannot use them. We shall be 
more than conquerors, therefore, through him who has 
loved us. 



t2 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [Sept. 

10. — What is a little opposition, a few conflicts and self- 
denials, compared with eternal bliss ? I will join with 
christians, whatever of a carnal nature opposes. An au- 
thor says — ^' Many a winter's evening passes delightfully 
away, while persons of congenial spirit and piety tell each 
other what God has done for their Souls. Nor will the 
imputation of fanaticism from a scornful world lessen the 
value of such society, or prevent those who have tasted 
that the Lord is gracious from seeking it." No, I am sure 
this can never be the case. The falling away of christ- 
ians is the greatest stumbling block to me ; but this cannot 
make me disavow my faith in Christ. 

11. — Mr. C. preached a very good discourse last even- 
ing from Gal. iv. 5. I generally go from the house of 
God refreshed. I get tired of everything else that I hear 
so often as I do preaching, but I grow more and more 
fond of this. I find Jesus to be altogether lovely. Almost 
two years have elapsed since I tried his service, and I 
have found it sweet to my soul. How can I ever praise 
him enouD-h for causino; me to love him ? I lament that I 
have made so little progress, and done no more for him. 

TO Miss S. C. OF D. 

Dorchester, September 15, 1816. 
Dear S. — With pleasure I take my pen to write a few 
lines to an ever dear friend. I trust I have lately enjoyed 
the pure light of Immanuei's countenance— -and O what a 
blessing it is ! I could wish always to live in this situa- 
tion ; but my heart is so prone to evil, that I shall proba- 
bly again be involved for a season in midnight gloom, sur- 



1816.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 73 

rounded with doubts and fears. This I have felt, and 
fear I must feel again. Yes, I walk in a chequered 
path, but I desire to be thankful to God for turning my 
feet in any measure heavenwards. * * # ^ =* 

There are many things pertaining to futurity which are 
not fully revealed — one of which is, whether saints in rest 
are acquainted with the concerns of their friends on earth. 
I am inclined to think they are, but that their wills and 
inclinations so perfectly coincide with their Father's, that 
they suffer no anxiety or distress therefrom. Our em- 
ployment, we are told, will be that of singing praises to 
the Redeemer. In w^hat manner we shall sing, we know 
not now. Many other things seem difficult to understand; 
but I think it is the language of each of our hearts, that if 
our Saviour is there we shall be happy. O that the day 
were now arrived. But not many wearisome days and 
nights are allotted us here. This tenement of clay will 
soon return to its native dust, while its inhabitant, the 
mind, will be transported to that country where it can no 
more be said, I am sick. Blessed be God, this is nothing 
contingent, that may or may not happen, but we are sure 
that if we do believe on the Lord Jesus Christ we shall 
be possessor of this heavenly bliss. There the anxieties 
and troubles of hfe will never perplex us, and even tender 
solicitude, the least of troubles, will find there no place, 

" There we shall see, and hear, and know, 
All we desired or v/ish'd below." 

O let US see to it that we are ripening for that happy 
country. Let us shake off slothfulness, press forward 
with earnestness, and make our calling and election sure. 
9 



74 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [Oct 

May we ever live in the enjoyment of God here, and be 
made fit to dwell with him above. Till then, and fore- 
ver, I hope to remain your sincere friend. s. h. c, 

Oct. 3. — Next Sabbath the solemn act will be done. 
I must then stand before God and angels, and in the pre- 
sence of his church, and call upon them to witness my 
sincerity. But, alas ! should it be like a solemn sound 
upon a thoughtless tongue, how dreadful ! Yet I know 
I can truly say, after mature deliberation, that it is the 
earnest desire of my heart to promise nothing without sin- 
cerity. I would not, for millions of worlds, stand before 
my Judge, and, because it was in my power to deceive 
my fellow man, vow to that which 1 do not mean to per- 
form, or do not realize. But my heart is so apt to wan- 
der, that I fear I shall commit sin in this way. Yet God 
is able to restrain me, and I dare not distrust. 

4. — I have more reading before me than I can soon 
accomplish. With so much to do, I ought to improve 
every leisure moment. I must redeem more time from 
sleep ; and instead of rising at 7, I have this week begun 
to rise at the dawning of day, and to retire later at night. 

5. Saturday Eve, — To-morrow is the day appointed 
for the solemn act. I now view it with great pleasure. 
At first I regarded it with dread, then with extreme diffi- 
dence, then with a mixture of pleasure and fear, and now 
with unmingled pleasure. I have retired to my chamber 
for the night. How shall I prepare myself for the solem- 
nity of the coming day ? Solemn, indeed, to take upon 
me the vows of the covenant. How will this proud heart 



J 816.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 75 

be affected ? Alas ! I want humility. Lord, wilt thou 
be with me. Yes, [ must resign myself to him, and in 
the presence of many w^itnesses I must renounce the world 
and its vanities — and then I must live near to my God. 
How will the least deviation then wound his sacred cause. 
But prayer, with its energy, must rise. Prayer is the 
weapon which must rise against adversaries numerous and 
powerful. Prayer — O what a defence ! 

6. — The day is come, and I long for the time to say — 

^^ And now the great transaction 's done — 
I am the Lord's, and he is mine." 

It is to me a solemn, an all-important day. O that I re- 
alized it enough. I want to be prepared. The work is 
thine to do, O Lord. Wilt thou prepare me ; keep my 
heart fixed intensely upon thee, I beseech thee. I must 
this day tell friends and foes that I am on the Lord's side* 
7. — It is done. Now all that remains of duty is to live 
up to a solemn profession. In the morning I experienced 
some dejection, but hoped and expected that on arriving 
at the sanctuary I should feel happy. But instead of this, 
the sad depression increased ; the singing, the sermon, all 
seemed to conspire to increase it. At length the time 
came. I trembled, but could not go back. I partook of 
the elements, but I fear very unworthily. In the after- 
noon and evening I thought I felt a new and more fervent 
love to all the dear children of God. L. D. informed me 
that she had relinquished to me her station as the young- 
est member of the church. Alas! she little thought to 
what an unworthy creature she had resigned it. O how 
ill performed will the duty of that station be, which is to 



76 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [jVoV. 

sit with the simphcity of a child, and with eagerness look 
up for instruction and guidance. I want grace to hear 
the voice of praise without the least degree of pride. 
Spiritual pride is dreadful indeed. 

9. — O the methods Satan takes to keep us from secret 
prayer. I feel in some measure sensible of them, and yet 
often yield to them. I can sincerely say 1 esteem prayer 
an unspeakable privilege, and it distresses me that it is not 
a greater enjoyment. I cannot grow in grace without prayer. 

11. — Have sat and waited for day light, to see to read 
or write, — My repeated opportunities of attending religious 
meetings, I hope will not rise up in judgment against me. 
Heard twelve prayers yesterday, and fifteen last Sabbath ; 
and from Friday to Wednesday attended nine meetings, 
and had frequent interviews with christians. If I duly 
appreciated half my privileges, I should not be so very 
stupid and ungrateful. 

22. — How I love the society of christians. I can truly 
say I had rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God, 
than to dwell in the tents of wickedness. 

Nov. 9. Evening, — The moon has begun her journey 
through the sky. Everything in nature is capable of 
yielding us instruction ; and if knowledge can be derived 
from the study of little objects, how much more from that 
of the sun and moon. I think they may with propriety 
be compared to christians. Some christians appear like 
the sun in all his majesty. After a dark and gloomy night, 
they rise clear, and shine with lustre through their brief 
day ; and though a daTk cloud may sometimes overshadow 
them, like the sun they soon shine forth with still greater 



1816.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 77 

splendor. Others, like the moon, rise not from so great 
darkness, nor do they shine so brightly, but go on with 
moderation, and still afford light to bewildered travellers. 
The daily feelings of christians are indeed as various as 
the appearance of the natural heavens — scarcely any 
without some doubts, so scarcely a day or night without 
some cloud. 

16. — To-morrow we are to assemble around the table 
of our Lord. May I be prepared, and have on the wed- 
ding garment. I resign myself to God, to prepare me for 
the solemn ordinance. — I am one week nearer the eternal 
world. All has been goodness ; every day has given me 
reason to rejoice that the Lord reigns. But the recollec- 
tion of all my folhes and sins pains me. How little have 
I done for God. When he has given me so many com- 
forts and blessings, 1 desire to make the poor return that 
is in my power — I w^ant to be useful. 

18. — Enjoyed the privilege of communing yesterday 
with the dear children of God ; but the inipressions, the 
happy effect, too soon wear away. I desire more faith, 
to feed upon his body and blood. O I would ever bless 
God for making me a guest. 

19. — Alas ! I am still remiss in every duty. All nature 

obeys the voice of God, and how sinful it is for me to be 

so careless and negligent. I, who, of all the fallen race, 

have the greatest reason to bless him, must not be silent. 

How can I refrain from praise, when such innumerable 

blessings are bestowed upon me, even though by my sins 

I have forfeited every favor. When everything speaks 

his praise, shall I, then, have nothing to say ? Well might 
9# 



78 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [Dec, 

the very stones cry out, if I hold my peace. His favors 
must not, shall not be forgotten. 

30. — Have just returned from a visit among professors ; 
but how little, how very httle, wa:s said upon the subject 
of religion. If I had introduced it myself, I should have 
done no more than my duty, and even I, though weak, 
might thus have been an instrument, in God's hand, of do- 
ing good. Will God forgive me. 

Dec, 1. — Another sacred day has arrived, and my life 
is still spared. — Since I have been united to the church, 
I have enjoyed a satisfaction and peace of mind I never 
felt before. 

*' Now rests my long-divided heart, 
Fix'd on this blissful centre, rests } 
With ashes who would grudge to part, 
When call'd on angels' food to feast? " 

8. — Am detained this day from public worship by in- 
disposition of body. Well, it is all right. If I cannot 
enjoy God in his earthly courts, I ought to bless him for 
the hope that I shall soon be where this frail tenement 
cannot molest. There I shall see him face to face, and 
enjoy him forever. O welcome, happy day. 
. 31. — I have now arrived at the close of another year. 
How I ought to mourn over ray sins and follies during the 
year, and to admire and adore the goodness of God. The 
mercies I have received call loudly for gratitude. My 
friends and relations are spared ; health and peace of mind 
have been my almost constant companions ; my rehgious 
privileges are not diminished, but enlarged, and have been 
almost innumerable. And shall I reflect on all these 



1817.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 79 

mercies, and not feel thankful to the giver of them ? 
I desire to praise him that I am permitted to hve in a land 
of gospel liberty — that I hear the gospel preached from 
the sacred desk Sabbath after Sabbath. During the past 
year I have, according to my best calculation, attended 
one hundred and ninety-one meetings, heard one hundred 
and twenty-two sermons, and united in more than a thou- 
sand prayers. But, alas ! how little improvement I have 
made. 

Jan. 1, 1817. — -O that I might hve to the glory of 
God during the year now commenced. I hope I shall 
make greater progress heavenw^ard than I have in any 
year before. I see more plainly than ever the import- 
ance of religion. The path shines brighter and brighter. 
I w^ant to serve God and be useful in the world. I want 
to live nearer to him ; but I dare not say I will, because 
this deceitful heart is so faithless to its promises. O God, 
wilt thou give me strength to do it. I intend to begin 
the Bible again to-day, and read it through in course. 

18. — What a w^onder is it that I have been spared so 
long. Not only my life, but many, very many undeserved 
blessings, have been continued. This is sufficient to show 
that God's mercies are not hmited. I long to join in im- 
mortal lays ; I long to mingle in the harmony of angels, 
where I shall not grow weary of praising-^ 

" Where congregations ne'er break up, 
And Sabbaths never end." 

Feh. 10. — Was permitted to sit down at the table of 
the Lord yesterday, but I very much fear with an unpre- 
pared heart. Why is it that my thoughts are so much 



80 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. 



[March, 



confined to earthly objects ? Where is my humility ? I 
find my heart full of pride. Where is my patience ? Is 
it not so, that I would presumptuously seize the reward, 
without patiently laboring and waiting for it ? Where is 
my love ? Alas ! shall my affections be cold towards my 
dear Redeemer ? Where is my trust and reliance on 
God ? Am I not more ready and willing to put confi- 
dence in an arm of fleshy than in that God in whom I 
ought, as a dependent being, to place my trust ? I have 
deserted my God in the midst of his mercy ; I have fool- 
ishly forsaken the source of all my comfort. My wicked 
heart would fain enjoy the world and heaven too. Have 
I not put my hand to the plough and looked back ? The 
Lord has indeed been kind to me ; he has given me 
christian parents, a competency of food and raiment, and 
has, as I humbly trust, brought me to a knowledge of 
himself. O that, in view of all his goodness, I could 
make some suitable return. 

March 1. — Sometimes, in seasons of coldness, I have 
resorted to the company of christians for relief. But I 
cannot forbear weeping when I call to mind how often 
their conversation has been the means of leading this 
heart, naturally prone to evil, still further from my duty 
and my God. And has not my conduct, also, had the 
same effect upon others? 1 fear I have thus wounded 
Immanuel's cause, and given the enemies of religion occa- 
sion to say — What do you more than others ? Never, I 
think, while memory retains her seat — not till the foun- 
tain of tears is dried up, and this heart has proved itself 
harder than adamant, shall I forbear to reproach myself 



1817.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 81 

for those hours, when I fear I added fresh wounds to my 
Saviour. We often see great effects from little causes. 
Were I alone to bear the injury, it w^ould not cause so 
much distress ; but, alas ! the wounds to the souls of others 
may never be healed. 

9. Sabbath. — Praise to God. I place these words 
where I may often and plainly see them, that my un- 
grateful heart may not entirely forget that all praise and 
glory should redound to him. " He has done great things 
for me, w^hereof my heart is glad." To him be given all 
the glory forever. 

21. — How poorly am I prepared for the solemnity of 
commemorating the Lord's death. Lord Jesus, clothe 
me with a wedding garment, I beseech thee, that I may 
not eat and drink unworthily; I acknowledge that of 
myself I am utterly unworthy of the smallest crumb that 
falls from thy table ; yet thy grace is sufficient for me. 
Yes, there is a fulness in Christ, a fountain at which all 
may drink — a fountain which will never be dry. When 
there was no created arm to save, then did Christ, the 
Son of God, come dow^n to die for us. Behold, was there 
ever love like this? Be astonished, O earth ! Belipve, 
O my soul, and adore. His love is the wonder of angels ; 
and amidst their hallelujahs, have I no notes to raise ? 
amidst their triumphant voices, their melodious tunes, 
shall J be silent ? His love is boundless, even to unwor- 
thy me ; and shall I raise no song ? Forbid it, mighty 
God. I must praise thee, though in feeble strains, and 
though I know not w^here to begin. If I begin with my 
existence, I shall fall infinitely short of thy due ; for be- 



82 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [April, 

fore even time began, thou didst meditate mercy to our 
race. Shall I ever distrust his goodness ? Is he not wor- 
thy of honors more than man can give ? 

" O may I lose this useless tongue, 
When I forget to praise." 

26. — Have enjoyed a sweet season in prayer. I think 
I never realized the presence of God more. Concluded 
by singing the beautiful hymn — '^ Here at thy cross, my 
dying Lord," and adopted the words as my own. 

April 1. — " Why art thou cast down, O my soul, and 
why art thou disquieted within me ? " Why is it that I 
am so subject to a slavish fear of thunder ? If the Lord 
is on my side, what can hurt me ? O that I could be 
freed from such distressing fears. O my Father, I be- 
seech thee, if it is consistent with thy holy will, discover 
to me the true cause of this disquietude. Is there some 
idol I have not yet resigned — some sin, lurking within, 
that has not yet been found out ? 

3. — This is a day appointed for humiliation and prayer. 
Lord, wilt thou lend a listening ear. Bless this land, and 
grant that thy word may here have free course and be 
glorified, and also in heathen lands. We long to see the 
knowledge of the Lord cover the face of the earth. 

10. — How is it possible for a mortal being to walk so 
careless upon the very verge of eternity ? What do I 
find to encourage slothfulness ? Is there one argument 
that can be brought forward to prove it necessary, useful, 
or unavoidable ? No — but thousands to the contrary. 
I have evervthino; that oug^ht to make me en2;ao;ed. The 
coldness and stupidity of christians is sufficient ; the neg* 



1817.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 83 

lect of religion among sinners is sufficient ; my own sins, 
my backslidings, and even a sense of my very slothful- 
ness, are sufficient. 

17. — I take great delight in singing, and have often 
found it the means of conveying heavenly peace and joy 
to my soul, particularly v^hen singing this hymn— 

'^ Here at thy cross, my dying Lord, 
I lay my soul beneath thy love — 
Beneath the droppings of thy blood, 
Jesus, nor shall it e'er remove." 

I have often wondered how christians could deny them- 
selves the pleasure of singing. God values not the tun- 
ing of the voice, but the feelings of the heart. He will 

" Regard the man who in seraphic lays 

And flowing numbers sings his Maker's praise. 

He needs invoke no fabled Muse's art; 

The heavenly song comes genuine from the heart — 

From that pure heart which God has deign'd t'inspire 

With holy rapture and a sacred fire. 

'Tis He that lends thy towering thoughts their wing, 

And tunes thy lyre, when thou attemptst to sing." 

22. — This is truly a thirsty, barren land. There seems 
to be but little attention paid to rehgion, either in our 
church or the churches around us. When I look around, 
my eyes affect my heart. It is a mournful sight to see 
sinners crowding the broad road to destruction, and christ- 
ians cold and indifferent. Be entreated, most merciful 
Father, to grant us a gracious smile, and favor us with a 
revival. O breathe among these dry bones, these ex- 
ceeding dry bones ; command flesh to arise and cover 
them, and let us arise, an exceeding great army. 



84 HIDBEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [Juney 

May 11. — Yesterday I was 15 years old. O that I 
might spend my few remahiing years or days to God's 
glory. My time on earth is at his disposal, and whether 
it is longer or shorter, I know he will do right. 

23. — Once, when alone, I used to look around upon 
the grass, the flowers, and the trees, and I could not bear 
the sight of them, because I thought I must soon go and 
leave them all. I lived in a slavish fear of death. But 
since I have experienced the joy and peace of beheving, 
when I look upon these things I enjoy the pleasure 
which they were designed to afford, yet consider it faint 
compared with the joy of heaven — and I feel willing, and 
often wish, to leave all and dwell with my heavenly 
Father, with saints and angels. Everything now looks 
blooming. God has indeed to me renewed the face of 
the earth. — When we view the scenery of nature, we can 
find many objects that may be compared to the christian's 
course, and thus receive instruction. 

June 1. Sabbath. — Have been carried safely through 
another week, by the goodness of an all-wise Providence. 

Am requested this day to attend the communion at . 

How much rather would I go to the usual, the beloved 
place. " There my best friends, my kindred, dwell." It 
is a blessed enjoyment to go up to the house of God with 
christian friends. The poor heathen have no such privi- 
lege. I have lately thought much of them, and wished 
it was in my power to do them good. Miss E. H. ex- 
pects soon to go among the benighted creatures. She 
is to resign the blessings of social life, and the dear society 
of her associates and relatives, and submit to the thousand 



1817.] r^lARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 85 

trials and hardships of a missionary Hfe. How great an 
undertaking — yet in how noble a cause. 

I have formerly found much . benefit in renewing my 
covenant with God. It has been the means of making 
me more watchful, prayerful and happy. Dear Lord, I 
would at this time devote myself anew to thee. Sensible 
of my own unworthiness, and utter inability of myself to 
do anything as I ought, I w^ould earnestly request thine 
assistance and direction. If thou wert strict to mark ini- 
quity, I could not answer for one of a thousand of my 
transgressions. I would desire to lay myself low at thy 
feet, and humbly beg thy forgiveness. In the sincerity 
and integrity of my heart I do surrender myself, soul and 
body, into thy hands, and deliberately say, do with me 
as seemeth good in thy sight. Witness now, dear Sa- 
viour, the solemn engagement to be forever thine. Let 
the holy angels witness that I do subscribe myself the 
Lord's. As far as I am able, with the assistance of the 
Holy Spirit, I will live devoted to thee. Accept this my 
engagement, and enrol my name in the book of life. 

15. — While I weep over my own inattention and sin- 
fulness, I mourn also for Zion, that her ways are so deso- 
late and so few come to her solemn feasts. O that I 
could weep day and night, and pour out my grief before 
the Lord. Why do so many reject the kind invitations 
of the gospel ? Why do they not listen to the sacred 
truths, and improve their day of grace before it is forever 
too late ? It is God alone that can touch the hard heart 
and effect this great work. 
10 



86 Hidden life of a christian. [June, 

TO MISS S. C. OF D. 

Dorchester, June 17, 1817. 
Dear S. — A few moments this morning .hall ne de- 
voted to you. — I have been thinking how much good we 
might do — how useful we might be, not only to our own 
souls but to the souls of others — were it not for our wick- 
ed hearts. Alas ! our hearts are prone to evil, and that 
continually ; when we would do good, evil is present with 
us. How necessary, then, is it for us to live near to God 
— to be much in prayer and self-examination. It is very 
important to know ourselves, and this is the only way to 
acquire such knowledge. When we are enabled to know 
ourselves, we have attained a great height in knowledge. 
Whatever else we attempt to learn, we shall be ignorant 
till we have become acquainted in some degree with our 
own spiritual nature. Our hearts are deceitful above all 
things ; and if we are not acquainted with them, they will 
be apt to deceive us with false hopes and lead us astray. 
If we had not these wicked hearts, we should oftener con- 
verse upon religion ; we should grow daily in grace, and 
in the knowledge of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. 
But the sin that is within us has been in the world ever 
since Adam fell, and we never shall be entirely rid of this 
great evil while we are here ; yet by prayer and suppli- 
cation, and constant watchfulness, we may gain great 
ascendancy over it. If we are children of God, however, 
we shall not always have these wicked hearts. We shall 
one day be purified and made perfect, the blood of Christ 
having cleansed us from all sin. Seeing we have such a 
glorious prospect in view, we ought to stir up each other's 



1817.] 



DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 87 



minds hv way of remembrance ; we should keep our eyes 
upon the way, as well as upon the prize. Why should a 
few difficulties discourage us ? Christ has gone before 
us ; he has marked the road, and will give us grace to 
follow. He once laid down his life for us ; now we ought 
to crucify our sins for him. Let us be up and doing with 
all our might what our hands find to do. A few duties 
performed, and a few self-denials, will not carry us to 
heaven. We must go on uniformly : if we do our duty 
in one thing, we must in another ; if we deny ourselves 
one thing that is wrong, we must another — for consistency 
is requisite. 

Ah, it is easy to say what should be done, but hard to 
do it. What shall a slothful, stupid christian do ? or is 
there in creation so inconsistent a character ? Yet if I 
call myself a christian, it must be one of this kind, incon- 
sistent as it is. 

"Reason I hear, her counsels weigh, 

And all her words approve ; 
But still I find it hard t' obey, 

And harder still to love." 

I cannot, however, bear to give up all hope, undeserving 
as I am. Sometimes I think I do enjoy the blessedness 
of Immanuel's smiles ; but this happiness is soon over- 
clouded with stupidity. It is, in my opinion, far better 
to be alarmed and uneasy, than to be thus. If I ever 
arrive at the blessed haven of rest, what a wonder it will 
be. Do pray for your unworthy cousin. s. h. c. 

June 19. — Have this morning heard news which glad* 



88 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [Jull/, 

dens my heart. At C, in Vermont, there has been a 
very great revival of religion, and my uncle C. and some 
of his family are among the subjects of it. God has gra- 
ciously seen fit to visit him at this late hour ; his grace is 
not confined to age — the old and the young may be made 
partakers of it. Learning and talents cannot save a soul 
from death ; it must be the grace of God alone^ 

My cousin S. and myself have made it our practice to 
meet every Saturday to pray in particular for the growth 
of grace in our own souls, for a revival of religion, and 
for those of our relations w^ho are unconverted. 

22. — Another Sabbath morn has returned, and I have 
retired to my beloved retreat, my chamber, to spend a 
few hours before meeting. The morning is delightful — 
warm, and refreshed wath gentle breezes. I cannot help 
wishing it were so within ; that instead of diverse and tu- 
multuous thoughts, all were in perfect harmony and fixed 
entirely upon God, the great source of happiness ; that 
the Holy Spirit would enliven and quicken me by breath- 
ing into my cold heart, and that I could ^^ read my title 
clear to mansions in the skies." I resolved before I arose, 
this morning, to banish vain thoughts — not to give them 
the first place in my mind, and then they >vould not be 
likely to have the last. But, alas ! how easily they find 
entrance. 

July 6. Sahbath, — Expect to be detained this forenoon 
from divine service. I feel that God is good w^hen he be- 
stows blessings and comforts, and when he removes them 
I know he is the same — a loving and kind God. — I have 
for a few days been much cast down, particularly y ester- 



1817.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 89 

day ; but I found that prayer would make the darkened 
cloud withdraw. Met with S., and enjoyed a precious 
Bethel season ; felt more of the spirit of prayer than usu- 
al, and I trust God was indeed with us, and truly mani- 
fested himself a prayer-hearing God. O what an un- 
speakable privilege it is, that we are permitted thus to 
approach him. 

TO MISS L. W. OF C, VT. 

Dorchester, July 15, 1816. 

Dear L. — I had almost despaired of ever again receiv- 
ing a letter from you, and feared mine was not acceptable ; 
but having at length received one, I hasten to answer it. 

I think I find, by daily experience, that rehgion is of 
more importance than anything else ; it is indeed the pearl 
of exceeding great price, and worthy our utmost attention 
and concern. This affords infinite delight ; while all other 
^pleasures are unsatisfactory, and 

*' Vanish, as though we saw them not, 
As a dim candle dies at noon." 

When religion appears of such great importance, does it 
not astonish us to look around and see so little attention 
paid to it even by those who profess to be governed by 
its spirit. How careless and negligent they often are in 
the performance of every duty, and how difficult it fre- 
quently is to distinguish them from others. Is this the 
treatment Christ receives in the house of his friends ? 
Shall those who are his chosen disciples thus w^ound Him 
afresh who left the bosom of his Father, lived a hfe of 
sorrows, and suffered an ignominious death for our sakes ? 
10=* 



90 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN* [-^W^' 

I have beard you have lately had a revival of religion. 
While you enjoy refreshing showers of grace, I hope you 
will not forget those dry and thirsty places where the love of 
many is w^axing cold ; where the most earnest inquiry is — 
^^ What shall we eat, what shall w^e drink, and wherew ith- 
al shall we be clothed ? " and where the w^ays of Zion are 
desolate, and but few come to her solemn feasts. Will 
you not intercede that christians elsewhere may be more 
engaged in earnest supplications. 

I regret that so many hundreds of miles are soon to 
separate us still farther from each other ; but I will not 
relinquish the hope that even then we shall be able to 
continue our correspondence. If we never have an oppor- 
tunity again, on earth, of conversing with each other face 
to face, I hope we shall meet in heaven, where reciprocal 
affection between friends will be renewed and increased, 
I remain your affectionate friend, s. h, c, 

31. — Why is it that I am suffered to live, a cumberer 
of the ground, while so many useful ones are taken away ? 
O Lord, thou only knowest. 

August 3. — I am no^v reading ^^ Watts's Improvement 
of the Mind." Have lately read '^ Gregory's History of 
the Christian Church from its earliest periods." Reading 
is a delightful employment. The poor heathen have no 
good books. O that the gospel might soon be spread 
throughout the world, that all may hear of a Saviour. 

17. — '^ Lord, what is man, that thou art mindful of 
him ? " When I look around and see so many human 
beings ; when I consider how many there are who have 



1817.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 91 

come within the compass of my knowledge, and the infi- 
nitely larger number whom I have never seen ; and when 
I consider how many milhons, yea hundreds of millions 
do actually subsist on this our earth, my narrow con- 
ceptions of the Deity have at times led me almost to fear 
that among such an innumerable multitude I should be 
overlooked. But when I carry m.y thoughts beyond this 
sphere ; when I consider w^hat a number of worlds there 
are, each with its numerous inhabitants, and that in the 
eye of Omnipotence our planet, if it were lost, would be 
missed no more than a grain of sand by us upon the sea 
shore, I exclaim — "^ Who can, by searching, find out God ? '' 
How carefully he provides for his large family. His good- 
nesses indeed over all his works. '' His centre," as some 
author has said, '^ is every wdiere, his circumference no 
where." Yet thouo;h he is lovinoj and kind, we are re- 
bellious and sinful. 

24. — Friends drop on every side, and we daily hear of 
some one who has gone into eternity. Death makes rapid 
strides, and soon will lay low all who now exist. Yes, 
the time will come when I, too, must die — when the 
places that I now^ visit will by me be visited no more. I 
shall soon be forgotten by my friends and relations, and 
my worthless name sunk in oblivion. The leaves w^hich 
I now turn over, and whose contents afford me warning 
and encouragement, will soon be mixed with other rub- 
bish and consumed. This clayey tabernacle, too, will 
drop to dust, and be food for worms. O if I could look 
into eternity with blessed and unmingled hope, willingly, 
yea joyfully, would I submit to the monster death. But, 



92 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [Sept, 

alas ! I am in a doubting frame. I fear I have deceived 
myself and others, and shall come short of heaven. 

29. — The text which this day occurs for meditation, is 
— " Seven times a day will I praise thee, because of thy 
righteous judgments.'' Lord, give me this thankful heart 
to praise thee for mercies and judgments, and may I never 
murmur at thy will. 

Sept. 3. — I find it exceeding hard to keep down pride. 
I have meditated, to-day, upon these words — ^^ The Lord 
has done great things for us, whereof we are glad," but 
fear it can with more truth be said of me that I am proud, 
than that I am glad, of God's mercies. I would fain 
learn to keep this dreadful sin in subjection. 

23. — I once more resume my long silent pen. I have, 
m different places, passed through many scenes since I 
last wrote. I find that at home I can enjoy my mind 
best. Blessed be God, who has provided for me such a 
home, while thousands, more deserving, are deprived of 
so rich a blessing. 

Have been perusing a letter from our dear sister E. H. 
to a friend. She intends leaving her native land to en- 
gage in the missionary cause. O that I could be employ- 
ed with her in doing something for God. Not that I think 
myself qualified for her station ; but there is much to do, 
and I fear I am all the day idle — that I live a cumberer 
of the ground. O God, in mercy remove me, or let me 
be useful. If I may be but the ^^ hewer of wood and 
drawer of water" for God and his people, I shall be happy. 

28. — Part of this day I have spent in composing verses 
— a pleasing employment ; but is it profitable ? Is it pro- 



18J7.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 93 

fitable for me to write at all ? Yet 1 cannot relinquish 
the delightful employment. 

Oct, 16. — My pen has for a long time lain untouched. 
A multiplicity of engagements has employed my time 
since I last wrote. 

I have been called to follow^ to the tomb a near and 
dear relative. My aged grandmother has gone to the 
eternal world. We have every reason to think she is be- 
yond the reach of trouble, praising her God ; and who, 
therefore, could wish her back again to this world of sin 
and wo ? She had completed almost a century, and in 
that long course of years there have been no idle hours. 
She was a valuable friend — useful for her advice and 
prayers, as well as for the labor of her hands. But few 
live to her advanced age. O God, I humbly beseech 
thee that my life may not be spared to complete half her 
term, unless it can be spent in usefulness. 

Nov. 5. — I have lately thought more of the perishing 
souls of the heathen than I ever did before, and wished it 
were in my power to do them good ; but w^hat can I do ? 
Their souls are as precious as mine ; and while I live in 
the full enjoyment of the gospel, they are deprived of the 
glorious privile'ge, and are perishing for lack of vision. O 
that I could do something for their dying souls. Time 
bears me swiftly away, to mingle with the dead. The 
feet of those who have carried out my neighbors may be 
at the door, waiting to carry me away also. But I hope, 
ere I am removed hence, I shall have done something for 
the advancement of Christ's kingdom in the world. 

9. Sabbath evening, — This afternoon Mr. Wheelock 



94 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [JVoV. 

preached from Luke xix. 10. This is the last Sabbath 
he expects to spend in America. He has given himself 
up to the work of a missionary, and soon expects to leave 
parents and brethren for a heathen land. Often have I 
met him and Miss H. at the house of God — often united 
with them in prayer and praise ; but now they are going 
with their companions far away. Never did I realize the 
importance of the missionary enterprise so much before. 
While others do so much, shall I do nothing ? My heart 
bleeds for the poor heathen. O that I could snatch them 
from their dangerous state. When I meditate upon it, 
the spark is kindled to a flame ; it burns for heathen lands, 
for those dark corners of the world where the Saviour was 
never known. O fly, thou blessed angel of the everlast- 
ing gospel, fly and carry the torch, and enlighten and save 
the perishing heathen. 

30. — With joy I welcome another Sabbath morn. — 
" Come, holy Spirit, heavenly dove,'' and emancipate me 
from this bondage of sin, this unison with the world. 
Thou canst effect the work. I long to feel the full influ- 
ence of a Saviour's love. It is more than tongue can 
utter, what can we say ? it is more than heart can con- 
ceive, what can we think ? Lord, inflame this cold heart. 
Raise my languid affections above these sordid vanities. 
There is nothing here can feed an immortal mind — no- 
thing to satisfy our large desires. The soul, originally 
created for more noble enjoyments, cannot be satisfied 
with these low objects. 

O, the dreadful consequences of the fall. On that 
memorable, that fatal day, universal wo and death were 



1817.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 95 

brought upon the human race. This was the source of 
eveiy sorrow, every trial, to which our race is exposed, 
as it introduced sin, the cause of every evil. But while 
in sorrow I lament this, I would meditate with joy in pro- 
portion on the wondrous redemption from this awful state. 
I would remember the ransom paid for us. On that aus- 
picious day God's only Son suffered and atoned for our 
sins. Now we may be made recipients of that happiness 
we had forfeited. His uncircumscribed love extends to 
all who are willing to accept it. Rejoice, O my soul, 
and bless the great Redeemer. 

When I meditate on the wretched, the deplorable con- 
dition of the heathen, and the usefulness of a female mis- 
sionary among them, I feel impatient to go and labor in 
their behalf. I have formerly suppressed all such thoughts 
as much as possible. Much as I wished to do them ser- 
vice, I thought I could not leave my native country ; but 
I have recently thought that should an opportunity offer, 
and I could obtain the consent of parents and christian 
friends, I should feel it my duty to go. The subject is 
pleasing, and mournful too. But should my wicked heart 
deceive me — should I go from wrong motives — ah, how 
dreadful ! Yet nothing should prevail upon me to go if 
I thought I should do no good. I would rather be use- 
less at home, though the thought of this is almost insup- 
portable. Lord, show me what are my true motives. If 
they are wrong— but why should I dwell upon this ? Is 
it not better to dismiss the subject ? My parents, pro- 
vided other things would admit, would perhaps never 
consent. Then could I act contrary to the wishes of 



96 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [JSJ^OV, 

christian parents ? O no. But if God has designed me, 
worthless as I am, for an instrument in his hands of doing 
good, he will provide the means. Let him therefore do 
as it seemeth him good. 

" They seek me dailyy 

Jesus, I fain would seek thy face 
With true sincerity of heart ; 
I would abide in thine embrace, 
And never, never from thee part. 

On thee, dear Lord, depends my joy ; 
Without thee, I am never blest; 
Elsewhere, I find no sweet employ; 
Other pursuits afford no rest. 

Yes, Lord, my spirit doth refuse 
All other joys when thou art gone : 
This comfort ever will I choose — 
'Tis thee I hang my hopes upon. 

Let smiling wealth attend me round. 
And servants run at every call — 
Let every pleasant sweet abound — 
Still thou alone art all in all. 

Let blooming health crown all my days, 
And friends increase in numbers great ; 
Still, Jesus, I must sing thy praise, 
Or all my blessings lose their taste. 

Let ease and plenty be my lot — 
No pains afflict, nor cares oppress — 
Still, Jesus, if I see thee not, 
My heart 's estranged from happiness. 

True happiness can ne'er be found 
When thou art absent. Lord, from me : 
But when thou 'rt here, my joys abound. 
True, lasting comfort comes from thee. 



1817.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 97 

" The Lord is righteous. ^^ 

Yes, thou art righteous, Lord, indeed; 
Thy righteousness alone I plead, 
For I've no merits of my own — 
Nothing that will for sin atone. 

The Lord is righteous ; bless his name, 
For he 's from day to day the same ; 
His love, eternal as his years, 
Shall calm our grief and dry our tears. 

Dec, 14. — Another blessed Sabbath morn salutes us. 
What a privilege that I am permitted to spend it accord- 
ing to the dictates of conscience. Jesus in agony pur- 
chased for me these precious blessings — and shall I forbear 
to love him ? He deserves all I can give, and this is only 
what he owned before. Lord, I cannot recompense thee. 

20. — I have this evening, at a conference meeting, been 
so completely swallowed up with the goodness of God 
and the comforts of rehgion, that I felt constrained to say 
that I would not part with this enjoyment for millions of 
worlds. Might I be called by the noblest title ever be- 
stowed on man, and be lauded and worshipped by my 
fellow men, these honors would vanish to nothing in com- 
parison with the glorious prerogative of being a child of 
God. I have likewise been looking around me on those 
far advanced in Hfe, and sighed lest I should Hve to such 
age and do no good. 

21. — How gladly would I enter those sacred courts 
from which, on this holy day, I am detained by the wea- 
ther. I can truly say of Zion — '^ I love her gates, I 
love the road." 

u 



98 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [Dcc, 

24. Morn. — Nature wears a pleasant aspect. The 
sun has not yet shone upon us, but his hght illumines the 
horizon. This calls^to mind the day on which Christ was 
born, when the Sun of Righteousness first shone upon our 
benighted world. The twilight which now prevails calls 
also to mind the present condition of heathen lands. The 
Sun of Righteousness has not yet arisen there, but his light 
has begun to dawn. O that he would there arise and 
shine, and thus a bright meridian day be created. And 
has he not promised it ? Nor will his promise fail. O 
joyful thought, that heathen India will become a gospel 
land, and its now deluded natives enjoy the precious 
privileges with which we are favored. Lord, perfect the 
glorious work, for thine own name's sake. 

The morning is indeed delightful. Scarcely a cloud 
appears in the heavens, and gentle breezes float in the air. 
The eastern sky is gloriously irradiated with the light of 
the approaching sun. The pale rays of the moon have 
done their office, for now a far more resplendent light be- 
gins its career. At first its beams are less bright, but it 
gradually approaches in all its magnitude and splendor. 
But a few hours since, the heathen were probably w^or- 
shipping this very sun as it rose upon them ; now it light- 
ens gospel lands. The day approaches, and as it pro- 
gresses may 1 also make progress in a christian course. 

25. — Hail, thou auspicious morn ! With joy I greet 
the welcome day, the supposed anniversary of our Sa- 
viour's birth, which brought salvation to sinful men. Well 
may we rejoice at the introduction of the source of our 
highest happiness. 



1817.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 99 

21. — Have just returned from another blessed confer- 
ence. O, the comforts of rehgion ! What do those poor 
worldhngs do who know nothing of these comforts ? It 
is an everlasting solace we mortals need, and in nothing 
else can such be found. Here is a Fountain that will 
supply all our necessity. '^ Bless the Lord, O my soul, 
and forget not all his benefits." 

Jan. 1, 1818. — Another year has begun. O that the 
Lord would with this new year begin a reviving work 
among us, and carry it on. 

4. Sabbath Morn. — 

The joyful day of God has come, 

With sweet reviving rays — 
O let his love be sweetly sung, 

And Christ our Saviour's praise. 

Jesus deserves our highest praise — 

His name is ever blest : 
To Jesus I'll devote ray days, 

And on his mercy rest. 

Now on this sacred morning, Lord, 

Come, meet thy people dear ; 
O bless the sacred preached word, 

And scatter blessings here. 

Behold, O Lord, this barren plain, 

These fruitless, with'ring trees — 
Revive thy blessed work again 

Among dry bones like these. 

10. — My attention has lately been deeply excited in 
regard to the millions of my fellow creatures who are 
groping in heathen darkness. Mr. C, our beloved pas- 
tor, is unusually engaged for them. It does indeed rejoice 



100 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [Jan, 

my heart to see a missionary spirit excited here. When 
I have heard this subject treated of in the sacred desk, 
not having it in my power to give so much towards the 
support of missions as I could wish, the only way in which 
I could satisfy myself w^as by saying — Lord, here am I; 
send me into those uncultivated fields. 

12. — O how lovely is religion. The more I view it 
and feel it, the more I love it. Perhaps these imperfect 
writings wall never meet the eye of any living creature 
except myself; but should 1 leave them behind me when 
I go hence, some surviving friend may glance his eyes 
over them — and O my friend, whoever you are, remem- 
ber that religion alone can make you happy. If you are 
young, be entreated by your young departed friend to 
choose this for your portion. Time would fail me were I 
to attempt to relate the benefits I have already received 
from an early choice of this one thing needful. Let it be 
your guide, your comforter, your constant helper through 
life. It will never fail you ; it will never, like earthly 
comforts, promise more than it performs, but it w^ill per-^ 
form more than it promises. 

15. — What a pleasing employment is study. I hope 
to improve what learning I receive, to the glory of God.. 
If 1 knew I never should improve it in this way, 1 would 
immediately desist from my studies. God grant I may 
ever thus improve it. 

19. — ^^ O for a closer walk with God." Let me live 
more entirely devoted to thee, dearest Saviour ; let me 
love thee more and Qiore. Now in the morning of hfe, 
while no anxieties distress, nor trials rend my heart — now 



1818.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 101 

while all is serene and quiet, may I attend to that which 
deserves my utmost regard. I often think that perhaps 
the time will come when with a sigh I shall look back on 
these years, and wish that it were with me as in times 
past. Then, when earthly cares and trials are thick around 
me, I shall call this a season of ease and comfort. What 
my future lot is to be, I know not ; God only knows. 
But I do not look forward with one anxious thought re- 
specting the trials I may be called to endure ; and if I 
were sure I should meet with sore troubles, but that I 
should also be useful in the world, I should rather wish 
the time to come than dread it. Should I be called, in 
God's holy providence, to labor in some distant heathen 
land, I should expect to encounter trials and hardships ; 
but I should likewise expect, in God's strength, to be 
useful, and this would overbalance all trials. But I wish 
at present, above all things, to live near to God. Lord, 
wdlt thou give me grace. 

25. Sabbath. — After six days of labor and study, how 
delightful — how refreshing — is it to enjoy one day of rest 
from these pursuits, one day which may be given entirely 
to the service of God. I would say to all earthly con- 
cerns — Tarry ye here while I go and pray yonder ; you 
have no concern with me this day ; you have been attend- 
ed to six days, and now the seventh is to be devoted to 
God. Abide ye in your proper places and disturb me not. 

I have always found it extremely dangerous for me to 

be in the company of the world. Young, and naturally 

fond of gaiety, I am too apt to be led away. O how much 

do I owe to that ever-blessed God, who called me at an 

11=^ 



102 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [Feb- 

early period of life to choose him for my chief portion* 
Lord, the work is all thine own. Before I had fallen a 
victim to the gaieties and sinful mirth of the world, thou 
wast pleased to call me to higher pursuits, and, as I hum- 
bly trust, to adopt me, unworthy as I am, into thy family. 

Last evening the weather prevented our usual religious 
meeting. The week before, we had a precious season ; 
singing better than usual. O how am I often enraptured 
by the harmony of music, and elevated above every 
earthly feeling. 

Feb. 1.— I am all unworthiness — all sinfulness ; beset 
with temptations on every side, and every day doing the 
things that I would not, and leaving undone those that I 
would do. O how long shall I carry with me this body 
of sin and death ? Give me. Lord, more genuine piet^^ — 
more ardor and zeal in thy cause — more love to my Re- 
deemer. Give me at all times a spirit of prayer and 
watchfulness. May I set a proper example before my 
fellow creatures, and O make me useful to them. Give 
me a grateful heart for the innumerable mercies which 
thou hast bestowed upon me. Surely thy goodness and 
mercy have always attended me. 

17. — O what an inexhaustible source of consolation is 
it to know that the Lord reigns. What do those helpless 
creatures do, who know nothing of this comfort in the 
hour of trouble ? — This day I am suffering from bodily 
disease, but I hope am resigned to the will of God, who 
I know does all things well. 

23. — This is a communion Sabbath. A violent head- 
ache still attends me, and I am detained from the house 



1818.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 103 

of God. I hope to be reconciled to his will, whatever it 
is. '' How amiable are thy tabernacles, O Lord of hosts." 

March 1. — I retire to my chamber. Here, excluded 
from every mortal eye, with my pen, my Bible, and my 
God, 1 have enjoyed that happiness which the world can^ 
not give nor take away. O happy retirement. But are 
those moments gone, never agam to return ? Shall I no 
more hear that still, small voice, which in times past has 
spoken peace to my guilty, heavy-laden soul ? Has my 
subtle enemy at length got me in his possession, and must 
I mourn an absent God and a heart altogether prone to 
vanity ? Or is there balm in Gilead, and a physician 
there, for a sin-sick soul ? O look down upon me, most 
merciful Father, while I investigate my heart. I find I 
have sinned against thee without cause. I have gone 
astray from the fountain of living waters ; I have done 
what I ought not to have done and have neglected my 
duty, and I deserve only thy impending wrath. 

My situation is peculiarly trying. The society of the 
gay and thoughtless ahvays has been a source of danger 
to me, and now I am more than ever exposed to it. Dear 
Jesus, do thou be my strength and my guide, my hope, 
my comforter, my stay and my staff. O be thou near 
and dear unto me. May I maintain thy cause against 
any opposition that may invade. Forbid that I should 
ever depart from thee, or sw^erve from thy holy calling, 
or shrink at the attacks of opposition. Let nothing su- 
persede a constant w^alk with thee. May 1 have confidence 
to come out from the world and be separate, and take up 
my cross daily. May my walk and conversation be such 



104 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [March, 

as becometh the followers of Christ ; and let me be ena- 
bled to cleave fast to him while a perverse multitude is 
saying, crucify him, crucify him. 

5. — My time is now entirely devoted to the delightful 
employment of study. I hope it will not prove injurious 
to the soul. The soul's welfare is of infinite importance, 
and must be attended to, whatever else may engage our 
attention. 

7. — Another week draws to a close, and the Sabbath 
is at hand. With a mind overburdened with worldly 
cares and occupations, how am I prepared for the sacred 
day ? O God, without thy quickening grace I am not 
prepared to live or die. 

15. — Nothing gives me more satisfaction than cheering 
intelligence from the dear missionaries. Stupid and wick- 
ed as I am, it does give me the greatest delight to hear of 
their success. Could I be made useful to the poor per- 
ishing heathen, I should indeed be happy. I have been 
laying some plans to do them good, and, with divine as- 
sistance, they shall be put in execution. 

26.— 

" Where is the happiness I felt 
When first I saw the Lord ? " 

I find, by daily experience, that the world is an enemy to 
the soul. Alas ! I am sunk in stupidity, in awful stupidi- 
ty. Whither shall I flee ? I have forsaken the God of 
heaven, my Father and my Friend, and have yielded to 
temptations. I have neglected prayer, and sought after 
those airy phantoms which the world calls pleasure. I 
look within to see what graces I have cultivated and what 



1818.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 105 

sins I have subdued, and with the anguish which possess- 
ed the heart of Jacob's elder son I exclaim, my graces 
are not, and I, whither shall I flee ? Shall I come before 
an offended Father ? He has entrusted a talent to my 
care, and I have done v/orse than bury it in the earth. 
Vet I will adopt the publican's words — '' God be merciful 
to me a sinner." 

April 15. — Hints to Christians, Dear brethren and 
sisters — There is a race set before us, w hich^ we must run 
and not faint. As our heavenly Master labored, so must 
w^e. We must not put our hand to the plough and look 
back, neither must we put our hand to the plough and 
stand still. We must not be idle, for there remaineth 
yet much land to be possessed. If you have been hope- 
fully born again, do not imagine that all is done ; no, it is 
only begun. If you can look forward to the celestial city, 
and see the road that it is straight and pleasant and strew- 
ed with flowers, still you may have many steps to take 
before you complete your journey, and if you sit down 
idle it will never be accomplished. Satan will take the 
advantage, temptations will beset you, and your task will 
yet be hard. Christians, you have no time to lose ; you 
are placed in a world that needs your service — an unen- 
lightened and vicious world, that needs your labors, 
your example and precept. Yes, a great work is to be 
done : all the inhabitants of this earth must receive the 
gospel ; all must know the Lord, from the least to the 
greatest ; the Bible must be translated and sent to every 
land. This great work must be accomphshed by the use 
pf means, and it belongs in common to every christian to 



108 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [Jlpril, 

exert all the power of which he is capable for its ad- 
vancement. What have you done, christians, towards it ? 
If you would not trust your own souls out of the ark of 
safety, how much should you feel for those who know no- 
thing of this refuge. Every one has it in his power to do 
something for them. If he is so exceedingly indigent that 
he cannot impart his alms, he can pray for them. But 
you who know nothing of poverty, to you it particularly 
belongs to give plentifully for the spread of the gospel. 
But, alas ! how many make the excuse, I am not able to 
give, who expend large sums for trifles. If what might 
well be saved from dress was given for the support of 
missions, how large a sum would be devoted to this 
glorious cause. 

21. — Left the school where I have spent so many 
agreeable hours in pleasing studies. O that what little 
knowledge I have attained might be improved to the glory 
of God. Yet how dead and thoughtless have I become. 
Not dead to the world, but to concerns of infinite impor- 
tance ; not thoughtless of vanity, but of religion. How 
do I neglect that Saviour who voluntarily gave his body a 
sacrifice for my sins. How grudgingly do I suffer for him. 
If he said no more in my behalf than I have said for him, 
what would be my prospects ? Does he not from year to 
year plead with his Father, saying — Let this cumberer 
alone this year, also, till I shall dig about it ? O my Sa- 
viour, dig and prune, and do what thou wilt with me — 
only make me useful in the w^orld. But while I long 
and pray to be useful to others, I am aware there is much 
to be done within. Lord, give me correct views of my- 



1818.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 107 

self; show me the whole catalogue of my vices — the 
whole history of my heart ; help me to penetrate and 
carefully to investigate the darkest corners. Sin is in 
every part. It may rightly be called legion^ for they are 
very many. Can Jesus cleanse such a filthy heart ? Yes, 
his grace is sufficient for the vilest of sinners, even for me. 
Kind Saviour, look down in mercy upon me ; receive me 
and make me thine. 

May 10. — Another Sabbath morn has come. This is my 
birthday. Sixteen years of my short life are gone, never 
to return ; and it is a solemn thought that all my ill-spent 
hours during this time may appear against me at the bar 
of God. But are sixteen years indeed gone ? I start at 
the thought. My life appears like an idle dream, an empty 
show. Few have been the days of my pilgrimage ; but 
O that they had been days of usefulness, instead of the 
reverse. How dreadful is the thought of a useless life, 
particularly when there is so much to be done. 

On Spring, 

'Tis come — delightful Spring is come, 
And nature wears a lovely hue ; 
The fields and lawns display their bloom ; 
Come, and the verdant landscape view. 

What is it alters nature so ? 
Where the dry shrubs were lately seen, 
What makes them all appear so gay, 
So lively, drest in beauteous green ? 
^ This is the aspect they derive 

From the kind hand by which we live. 

A few weeks since, and all was drest in gloom : 
The fields and flowers could render no perfume ; 



108 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [MaiJ, 

The sky with darksome clouds was overcast ; 

Imperious winds were sending forth their blast ; 

The drifted snow block'd up the oft-trod path ; 

The piercing cold almost congeai'd our breath. 

A lenient sun has broke these iron chains, 

And sends the sun to cheer the frozen plains. 
Dread Winter, thou hast left our earth, 
And beauteous Spring has had its birth. 

What magic do our ej^es behold ! 
All the rich beauties can't be t«>ld. 
The vernal trees, the grass, the flower, 
Assume new beauties every hour. 
Who makes them thus to grow and thrive.^ 
Who makes the barren waste revive ? 
Who clothes them all in beauteous garbs, 
And give the food to flocks and herds ? 
Sure 'tis the God who nature form'd, 
And whom we ought to praise. 

Though nature now does thus look gay, 

Yet soon tlie time will come 
When all that tends to charm the eye 

Again will wear a gloom. 

Thus is our life exposed to change, 

And ills of various kind; 
Whene'er we think to pluck arose, 

We're sure a thorn to find. 
Then, Jesus, may we look to thee, 
For thou wilt live eternally. 

24. — This day have I been blest with the sound of the 
preached gospel — a guide to the doubting, a cordial to 
the fainting. But, alas ! even now, when others are more 
engaged, and the secure are alarmed, I am cold and stu- 
pid. A good attention to the one thing needful prevails, 
and I hope a good work is indeed begun. 



1818.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 109 

27. — Why do I weep? Why do I sit pensive arid 
alone, and write of gloominess ? Surely God's goodness 
is enough to excite pleasure. If I were sufficiently grate- 
ful, should I not be happy ? Lord, may I again enjoy 
the smiles of thy countenance. Truly water to the thirsty 
soul, or parched land, could not be more desirable or 
more welcome. I desire to thank thee for earthly com- 
forts, and pray for spiritual ones. O may I w^alk with 
thee. What greater honor or happiness can I enjoy than 
walking with that God in whose service I have tasted 
substantial bliss ? 

29, — Have spent a delightful afternoon with six, all of 
one heart and one mind. It w^as refreshing to my soul. 
I do love the society of christians. Surely if heaven is 
similar to such society, I can be happy there. May I not, 
then, hope that I know and feel the power of that religion 
which prepares for heaven ? And shall I, with all my 
inconsistencies, with all my guilt, trust that I am a child 
of the Most High ! Is Jesus indeed mine — is heaven 
mine ! And can I any longer be cold and inattentive to 
these great concerns ? Forbid it, Lord. 

This is a delightful evening. All around is calm and 
serene. And I rejoice that it is also calm within. I do 
trust that I have been ransomed from death, and that I am 
not left to wander away from my God. For a long time 
I have not felt so comfortable an assurance. O may niy 
wicked heart never deceive me. 

June 1 . — What enjoyment is to oe compared to that of 
the presence of God ? For this would I par': with all the 
joys of sense. For this I would live all the days of my 
12 



no HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [June, 

appointed time till ray change come — then, with a cheer- 
ful heart, bid the vain world adieu, and pass the dark val- 
ley to those blessed regions where no sighing or sorrow 
shall ever come. But O, in what words shall I speak 
my Saviour's praise ? How shall I ever extol him enough 
who paid such a penalty for my aggravated crimes ? O 
for an angel's tongue to tell what he has done for me, in 
calling me at an early period of life to see my own sinful- 
ness and choose him for my portion. Why was 1 not 
passed by ? This is indeed the greatest of blessings. 
What is all which the world calls pleasure, when com- 
pared with this ? Earth's gaudy vanities, all its fading 
treasures, I behold with scorn when thus immersed in the 
boundless ocean of a Saviour's love. Wherever I turn 
my eyes, something testifies that the Lord is good. And 
shall I be silent ? Is it possible I can ever forget his fa- 
. vors, or feel stupid or cold towards him ? My God ! Let 
me dwell upon the dehghtful sound. It charms my ear, 
it animates my frame. 

" Fain would I sound it out so loud, 
That heaven and earth might hear." 

3. — The sun is just setting beyond tlie horizcn, with 
no cloud to obscure the brightness of its lustre. O may 
I leave the world as calmly as the sun now disappears, 
and may I perform the duties of my office as well as he 
has performed his. Now the laborer leaves his work, the 
beasts return to their rest, and nature begins to wear a 
dusky hue. Have we not all enjoyed the pleasures of 
*he day ? How it becomes us, then, at its close, to return 

\ anks to our great Preserver. Alas ! how many expe- 

.:th. 



1818.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. Ill 

rience comfortable days and nights, without thinking of 
the Source of these favors. 

8. — O what a blessing to enjoy the consolations of reli- 
gion, the smiles of my heavenly Father. This afternoon 
I have heard the sound of thunder, and felt comparatively 
no fear. I thought I could look through these dark clouds, 
and behold my Savdour, and I felt happy in him. It has 
been the desire of my heart that it might be a stranger to 
those fears which have heretofore so much distressed me; 
but 1 hope I feel submissive to the will of God, which- 
ever is best. 

How prone I am to forsake the fountain of bliss- — how 
prone to seek my comfort here, slight my blessed Re- 
deemer, and disobey his commands. Can he take any 
pleasure in me ? Will he condescend to love and accept 
me, when I am unwilHng to accept him ? Will he make 
rne one of his family, w^hen I am striving to be removed 
from it ; and confer on me favors when I hardly deign to 
receive them ? Will he be my friend, when I am ashamed 
of his friendship ? Will he plead for me, when I am 
acting against him ? O w^onderful love and condescen- 
sion ! Has he done all this, and more, and shall I forbear 
to love him ? Lord, renew my spirit, sanctify me and 
pardon my sins. 

17. — Acquaintance and neighbors are dropping around 
me ; death enters the house of happiness, and snatches 
away the aged, the middle-aged, or the young, and lays 
them low. Man goeth to his long home, and where is 
he ? Time with him must be no more. The cold clods 
cover all that was once life, health, and animation. And 



112 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN* [June, 

what woes ensue ! With some their all is gone ; all they 
depended upon for earthly happiness and support, is gone, 
to be seen no more. From whence all these sorrows ? 
What is the original cause ? It is surely nothing less than 
sin, which is the cause of all our wo. This deadly sting 
infects us all. O when shall we learn, from the folly of 
others, to be wise ourselves ? When shall we practise the 
short but comprehensive lesson — '^ Know thyself." Alas ! 
what progress do we make towards uisdom ? What ef- 
forts do we make to attain this invaluable prize ? It is 
worthy our closest study ; still we disdain it. It is the 
only thing capable of making us happy, and we are ready 
to acknowledge it ; but still we seek happiness in other 
things, where we know we shall never find it. When 
shall we fools be wise, and understand these things ? — 
What inconsistent beings we are — an astonishment even 
to ourselves ! ever acting contrary to our intentions, and 
ever purposing what we never really mean to fulfil. O 
Lord, change our hearts ; renew us, we beseech thee. 
May we hate that which thou hatest, and which is the 
cause of our inconsistency. We need purifying ; we need 
cleansing from all this pollution. The work is all thine 
own. Perform it, mighty God, and thine be the glory 
forever. 

25. — O this flinty heart ! When will it be susceptible 
of any feeling — when will it be sufficiently grateful for 
innumerable favors, and melted into contrition for its many 
transgressions ? Lord, I have not loved and served thee 
as I ought. I have revolted against thee, and sought my 
happiness here, although I have known that thou art all 



1818.] PIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 113 

in all — the only true source of comfort. Thou beholdest 
me thus vile, sinful, unholy, and what wilt thou do? Wilt 
thou accept me if I plead the merits of my adorable Re- 
deemer, or justly spurn me from thy presence for proving 
so false to thee ? How many times have I forsaken thee 
— how many times refused, by slighting thy just com- 
mands, to have thee to reign over me ! Rid me of this 
dreadful evil, and I ask no more. May I not hope? Hast 
thou not prepared a way for sinners to escape deserved 
ruin ? O may I be saved in this way — I wish to be saved 
in no other. 

28. Sabbath Eve, — What a sight, what a blessed sight, 
have I this day beheld ! Seven young persons have come 
forward and renounced the world and its charms for reli- 
gion. They have said, in the presence of us all — '^ As 
for us, w^e will serve the Lord.'^ And O may they contin- 
ue to the end ; may they fight valiantly, and come off 
conquerors. When shall I resign the seat of the young- 
est member of the church, to one more w^orthy ? O that 
w^e might often enjoy the delightful sight of seeing young 
christians come forward. When will parents behold their 
children more devoted to God, growling up for him, and 
thus prepared to supply their places ? 

30. — Our blessed Lord not only parted with the glit- 
tering toys of earth, but with far superior joys, to save our 
souls ; and shall we refuse to deny ourselves a few super- 
fluities to save the souls of our heathen fellow creatures 
who are perishing for lack of vision ? They sit in thick 
darkness — in the shadow of death. Shall they continue 
so ? Shall we be enriched wdth the best of blessings — ^ 

Q 

12* 



114 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [June^ 

have the gospel freely dispensed to us, and enjoy unmo- 
lested all its privileges, and let them suffer and die, for 
the want, only, of a small portion of that \vhich we may 
very well impart ? Far be it from us, christians, so to do. 
No — let us arise, and by our exertions evince the emotions 
of our hearts. How could they believe it was of any im- 
portance, if we should take no pains to send it to them ? 
How unkindly we should treat them not to endeavor to 
rescue them from that destruction to which we will not 
expose ourselves. Does not duty, then, call upon us to 
use every means to send them the word of hfe ? Freely 
we have received — shall we not freely give ? Do we be- 
long to that comparatively small number who, by living in 
a christian land, possess the temporal blessings of Christ- 
ianity ? How thankful we ought to be, and how desirous 
to have our fellow creatures possess them also. And do 
we belong to the still smaller number who know by happy 
experience the inward comforts of religion ? How very 
highly favored we are — the thrice-happy people, whose 
God is the Lord. And what shall we render unto him 
for all these peculiar favors ? What less can we do than 
endeavor to bring others into his kingdom ? Come, then, 
christians, and let the heathen know that our God is also 
worthy of their love. Say not you have nothing to give, 
as long as anything is spent for that which profiteth no- 
thing. God knows your circumstances. Can you appeal 
to him and say — Lord, I have ever given what v^as in my 
power ; I have wasted nothing ? If conscience will not 
let you do this, then strive for the future to do your duty. 
The gospel must be preached to every nation, and we 



1818.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 115 

should all lend our immediate assistance to effect this 
mighty work, for our day will soon be spent — the night 
of death is at liand. 

July 17. — Once more night draws its sable curtains over 
our hemisphere ; the grand luminary is gone to sliine upon 
those fellow mortals who know nothins; of a more ma<mifi- 
cent light. O my dear fellow creatures, 1 vrould release 
you from this horrible darkness. Yes, willingly I would 
relinquish all my earthly comforts, to purchase for you 
heavenly ones. Your souls are precious, and I wish I 
could rescue them from destruction. Lord, may 1 do all 
in my power to lielp forward this great vork. 

18. — Another week has gone, and another is soon to 
come as short and deceitful as this has been. So passes 
our life. Why, then, should we be so anxious for com- 
forts which must soon fade and die ? Why give ourselves 
so much uneasiness about trifles ? I blame myself exceed- 
ingly. I am astonished at my inconsistencies, at my fond- 
ness for the things of time and sense, when I must so soon 
leave them. Hov/ miserable are those w4io seek all their 
happiness in these things. What did Abraham say to his 
servants when going to sacrifice his beloved son — '' Tarry 
ye here while I go yonder and worship." O that I could 
this night say to all earthly concerns, tarry here while I 
go and worship my Father ; and may I resign entirely and 
voluntarily to his disposal my choicest earthly comforts^ 
and the dearest idol that obstructs my progress; and then, 
w^hen I am entirely willing to resign them at his call, and 
not before, I am prepared to enjoy them. 

19. — Another blessed day is come, and how am I pre- 



116 iilDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [Au^* 

pared to meet it ? These tumultuous thoughts, how they 
distract my unstable mind. O God, bid my warring pas- 
sions rest. Thou knowest my heart, and all its vileness* 

wilt thou subdue it, and make it submissive to the mild 
sceptre of Jesus. To w4iom shall I go but to thee ? Pol- 
luted with sin and hateful to thy pure eyes, I must yet fly 
to thee. Is not this the dear centre of my soul? Let 
not Satan deprive me of enjoying the blessed consolation 
of loving thee above every other good. If I mjust part 
with thee or all my earthly comforts, pleasant as they are 

1 bid them all adieu. Earthly comforts fail, but thou art 
the strength of my heart and my portion forever. O my 
heavenly Father, thou, and thou alone, knowest the anx- 
iety which now corrodes my heart and prevents my full 
enjoyment of thee. Wilt thou not drive it thence ? I have 
long since chosen thee for my guide and counsellor, and 
wilt thou fail me now ? O no — and may I distress myself 
no further, but thankfully visit thy holy house, 

Au(r, 2. Sabbath Morn, — 

o 

" Welcome and precious to my soul 
Are these sweet days of rest " — 

dear emblems of an eternal Sabbath, where nothing will 
interrupt our joy. Truly it hath not entered into the 
heart of man to conceive the bliss that is prepared for 
those that love God. O can I, with all my sins and im- 
perfections, belong to that happy number ? If so, to God 
belongs all the glory. 

6. — Another day is past ; the great luminary has left 
our hemisphere ; night draws her sable curtains, and soon 
all will be obscured in utter darkness. So many changes 



1818.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 117 

does the face of nature undergo. Darkness and light, 
heat and cold, storms and calm sunshine, are all wrought 
upon this famous groundwork. But this will ere long 
decay. Yes, these heavens must pass away, time grow^ 
old and die, and the elements melt with fervent heat. 
All which we now behold, however beautiful and charm- 
ino^, we shall soon see no lonoer. How miserable are 
those who have laid up all their treasure in such transi- 
tory things. What will they do when these have vanish- 
ed away, and their day of grace is past ? But we now 
have the power of choosing a better portion. God is using 
every means to bring us to himself and make us happy ; 
he is setting hfe and death before us ; and if we refuse all 
his calls, is he unjust in leaving us at last without any 
place of refuge from that punishment which he has told 
us will overtake the ungodly ? 

8. — A number more are to come forward on the ensu- 
ing Sabbath and profess their faith in Christ. O how 
pleasing the prospect ! Religion has indeed revived. 
Comparatively large numbers come and unite themjselves 
with us. We have for a long time been a little band, 
despised and rejected, with scarcely any increase. A few 
years since, only four w^ere added to the church in the 
course of a year. We were cold and stupid, and we be- 
held none anxious for the salvation of their souls. Our 
dear pastor faithfully preached to us, but he seemed to 
spend his strength for nought. He w^as discouraged ; and 
had not a good God upheld him, perhaps would have re- 
signed his labors from a persuasion that he could do no 
good. But at length the Lord's time came. Yes, I 



118 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [^Ug, 

trust lie has begun his glorious work ; he has stuTed up 
christians to prayer, and has wrought upon the hard hearts 
of sinners and inchned them to forsake their sinful ways. 

how is the scene changed ! Many are inquiring the 
way to Zion, while others are coming forward and owning 
that they have found the blessed path. I stand amazed 
at the mighty works of God. I have seen the gay and 
thoughtless as they flourished in their pride. I have felt 
no fellowship with them ; they despised what I loved, and 
how could they be my companions ? But suddenly they 
have stopped ; they have viewed their paths, and found 
they were not right ; they have forsaken them, and now 

1 behold them ownino- their Saviour before a scoffino; world. 
Never before was I blessed with such a sight, and now it 
appears hke a dream. But O may it no longer be a new 
thing. May this blessed work be carried on, and be 
more and more povvcrful. 

9. — I am brought to see the pleasant light of another 
communion Sabbath, O what must be my condemnation 
if I make no improvement of all the great blessings I en- 
jo}^ Am I then going this day to meet and commune 
with my God ? Will he condescend to come and meet 
with such a vile worm ? Yes, I must be happy w^hen I 
approach so near my God, my dear covenant God. 
Thou art mine, my portion and my joy. Possessed of 
such a treasure, what more can I ask? Before I knew 
thee, thou didst call me and adopt me into thy family. 
Although I have been prone to forsake thee, yet thou 
hast been faithful. Yes, I set to my seal that God is 
true ; I here record it with ink, God is true and faithful^ 



1818.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 119 

the same yesterday, to-day and forever. I leave tills testi- 
mony for whoever may hereafter read this sentence. I 
have tried him and found him an unchany-inc^ God. Whom 
he once loves, he loves to the end. 

13. — Why is it that there is not more said in the com- 
pany of christians upon the most important of all suhjects ? 
1 have cast upon myself a thousand reproaches, at as ma- 
ny different times, for this neglect, and as many times re- 
solved to do better for the future. But, alas ! how this 
treacherous heart delights in deceit; how much sorrow 
has it caused. Lightness in conversation and behavior 
has many times caused my heart to ache. When I am 
with superiors in age and knowledge, 1 do not censure my- 
self so much for this neglect as when with my com- 
panions. I then find but httle to say ; I cannot express 
my feelings in words. It is Aere, and here only, with my 
pen and paper, that I can use that freedom wdiich 1 can- 
not command when most it is needed. Could I converse 
for the edification of my friends, instead of writing entirely 
for my own, should I not be more useful ? But this is 
ordered by a wise Providence, and must be best. 

16. — The rising sun has just cast his beams upon us, 
and ushered in another holy Sabbath morning. In what 
innumerable shapes do the lengthy shadows gradually 
make their appearance and chequer the ground, and how 
free from clouds is the bright azure sky above us. What 
is there wanting, in external nature, to make this sacred 
morning perfectly joyous and delightful ? Surely nothing. 
With what striking events was it once ushered in. Early 
on a blessed morning like thiS; eighteen hundred years 



120 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHUISTIAN. [Sept, 

ago, two pious women arose from their beds to go forth 
and seek their Lord. They repaired to his sepulchre, 
but with inexpressible sorrow found he was not there. 
Early on this morning should I too arise and seek my 
Lord. If I find him not, I must indeed go mourning all 
the day. Without his presence and blessing it will be 
but an unprofitable season, though the best of preaching 
sound in my ears. Come, then, dearest Lord, wilt thou 
not condescend to be with me and bless me through the 
day. Wilt thou banish all vain thoughts, which interrupt 
devotion, and choke the word and make it unfruitful. 

19. — How partial we are to ourselves ! It is long be- 
fore we will own or be convinced that we are in a fault, 
and then we very soon forgive ourselves and forget it en- 
tirely. How often do we censure our fellow creatures for 
that of which we are guilty ourselves, without once think- 
ing that we are wrong. How easily we perceive motes 
in the eyes of our neighbors, while we have beams in our 
own. O God, i desire to see the worst of myself. Show 
me all my vileness^ make me sensible of every sin, and 
give me true repentance. 

Sept. 13. — I think i have reason to bless God for send- 
ing me '^ Law's Serious Call to a Devout and Holy Life.'' 
As far as I can judge, it has had a good effect on my 
mind and heart. /:. book equal to it, on that subject, I 
think I have never perused. 

TO MISS S. C. OF D. 

Dorchester, September 17, 1818. 
Dearly beloved Friend and Cousin — I hope you 
have not begun to ir.dulge the thought that I have forgot- 



1818.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. l21 

ten you, on account of the inactivity of my pen and my 
absence from you. No, never can I forget those friends 
with whom 1 have frequently walked to the house of 
God and taken sweet counsel — with whom I have united 
in prayer and praise, and by whom I have been faithfully 
advised and comforted. I often think of those precious 
seasons which we have spent in prayer and praise ; and 
though Providence sees fit at present to deprive us of 
these comforts, yet I hope the time will come when we 
shall again meet together and ^^ all our social joys renew." 
But all the hours which I have spent with you do not 
now yield me this pleasure. I fear I have at times hin- 
dered you in your progress heavenward. But if we ever 
meet again, let us resolve to do better, and have impor- 
tant concerns the theme of our conversation. Of how 
little importance is everything else when compared with 
religion ; and yet how apt we are to neglect the latter for 
that which profits us nothing. I have thought of this lately 
more than ever. I feel more like a stranger and pilgrim 
here, and have a stronger conviction of the truth that this 
world is not to be my home, and that I must seek a bet- 
ter. No, S., this is not our home ; v/e are only travelling 
through this world to another ; our journey is very short, 
and of how little consequence it is what befals us on the 
way. If trials are our lot, when we arrive at home our 
condescending Father will wipe all tears from our eyes, 
and make us happy in his presence forever. Let us not, 
then, stop to contemplate any mere earthly happiness, but 
press forward and eagerly pursue our journey. Whatever 
we do here, let us do it to the glory of God. Let us not 
13 



122 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [Sept, 

Strive to gain the vain applauses of the world — its friend- 
ship, or riches. A life devoted to such pursuits may justly 
be called far below the dignity of an immortal being ; it 
does not answer the end of our existence. Let us seek 
first the kingdom of heaven, and God will provide all 
other things for us in the best possible manner. If he 
sends afflictions, we know that those whom he loves he 
chastens, and these afflictions will last but for a moment. 
Should we possess the earthly comforts which we may 
most desire, they might be a detriment to us in our heav- 
enly course, and perhaps plant thorns in our dying pillow. 
These comforts often make us tempt our Maker to his 
face, and cause him to be angry with us. 

May we remember that God is a sufficient portion for 
us, and therefore give him that service which he so rea- 
sonably requires, and which it is our interest to bestow. 
The nearer we live to him, and the more we do for him, 
the more certainly we shall find that in serving him we 
experience superior joy. You will soon read Law's Se- 
rious Call, which is a most excellent book. I have taken 
great comfort in reading it, although I fall very far short 
of that holy conformity to God's requirements which is 
there enforced. But I need not recommend it ; it will 
sufficiently recommend itself, and I hope will find you 
exactly what is required of you to be. I hope that divine 
light is shining in upon your soul, and that you go rejoic- 
ing all the day. If my prayers are answered, this is the 
case. If it is not, I hope you will ask yourself why it is 
not, and why you do not enjoy this blessing as formerly. 
You know God is the same, and is just as willing and as 



1818.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 123 

able to give you comfort as ever. He is ever mindful of 
you ; no friend you have is half so tender and watchful 
over you. Is it not, then, because you are not as ready 
to receive it ? 

It is easy for us to talk and write of what we should be ; 
but it is hard, I find by daily experience, to conquer this 
propensity to evil and be what we ought. But we shall 
not always be thus exposed. Some heavenly breeze will 
ere long waft us to that blissful shore where sin and sor- 
row are unknown. 

When you approach the throne of grace and intercede 
for unworthy sinners, do not forget your friend, s. h. c. 

19. — I have been much pleased, and I trust edified, 
by reading the book of Isaiah with Lowth's new Transla- 
tion and Explanation. What a precious book is the 
Bible. I have taken great delight in reading it the past 
summer — more, I think, than ever before. 

20. — Have attended public worship to-day, and ap- 
proached the table of the Lord, but felt far too little im- 
pressed with the solemn duties before me. O why w^as 
this heart so callous and obdurate ? When my Saviour 
was prefigured before me in all his agony and blood ; 
while I heard him, as it were, uttering his last groans, and 
saw him casting his eyes in sweet compassion on me as 
they were about to close in death, I could not weep. 
Lord, make me susceptible of feeling — of gratitude to 
thee, and of deep repentance for my aggravated transo:res- 
sions. Quicken me, by the influences of thy Holy Spirit, 
that I may live as becometh one v/ith such privileges as 



124 



HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAIN. [Sept. 



enjoy. Where much is given, much will be required ; 
japd though I shall not have to answer for great abilities 
or mental gifts, I shall for the much greater blessing of 
a kind Saviour and Sanctifier. 

26. — Once more I resume my pen, to improve the 
evanescent moments as they pass. Another week has 
glided away ; its hours are gone, never to return. Time 
bears me swiftly to the mansions of the dead — to that 
world '^ from whose bourne no traveller returns." But 
the place w^hich I am passing through is unworthy to de- 
tain me in my progress, and w^hy should 1 lament a depar- 
ture from it ? What real good is derived from all the airy 
phantoms beneath the canopy of heaven, which poor mor- 
tals so steadfastly pursue ? None — but, on the contrary, 
remorse and self-reproach wall follow. While I consider 
the folly and blindness of others, 1 would not be unmind- 
, ful of myself. I have drunk too deep of that cup of folly 
and boasted pleasure ; I have blinded my eyes to the glo- 
rious light of the gospel, closed my ears against its most 
melodious sound, and slighted its most reasonable demands. 
Although I have been the recipient of thousands of favors 
which my pen can never adequately describe or my tongue 
express, yet my heart has been ungrateful. That which 
ought to have been the zest of my conversation, I have 
seldom spoken of. My obdurate heart has refused to 
commiserate my suffering fellow creatures as much as it 
ought. And with all this burden of guilt, whither shall I 
go? Methinks I hear a still, sm.all voice ; it whispers in 
my ear, and invites me to Calvary's mount — and there an 
object attracts my sight and engages my heart. It is the 



1818.] 



31IARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 125 



dying Redeemer ; and while he^'gasps, he kindly says — 
" Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do/' 
His countenance bespeaks his intense agony ; and some- 
thing seems to say, he thus emancipates my guilty soul 
from the yoke of sin. My sinfulness does not excite his 
hatred. No — he pleads even for me. Kind Saviour^, I 
will accept the pardon. I do rejoice to transcribe and 
call it mine. And now I surrender myself to thee ; and 
here, where no mortal eye beholds me, I do subscribe 
myself thine for time and eternity. And all the praise 
this feeble tongue can here give, is thine ; and all the 
glory my golden harp can yield in heaven, shall be given 
to Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, forever. 

All nature now is hushed in silence ; sleep has over- 
powered man and beast ; and all are protected, in these 
defenceless moments, by an omnipotent power. I, too, 
must sleep. Wearied nature requires repose. I must 
drop my pen ; and if I no more awake in this world, O 
heavenly Father, take me, I beseech thee, to thy courts 
above. 

Oct. 3. — Weary and fatigued, once more I arrive at 
this dear place — my home. Have spent several days in 
B., where my mind has been too much upon the vain 
things of time and sense, which ever fail to yield sub- 
stantial bliss, 

4. Sabbath Morn. — As travellers on the burning sands 
of Arabia, without one coohng draught or lenient shade, 
wearied and almost exhausted with their journey, at length 
hail a dehghtful shade, a refreshing fountain, an undisturb- 
ed repose — so doth my soul, after a week's journey through 
13=^ 



126 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [Oct. 

toils and cares, disappointments and wearisome pursuits, 
greet this holy day, when I may be refreshed at the inex- 
haustible fountain, and sweetly rest under the blessed, the 
reviving droppings of the sanctuary. Thrice-blessed day. 
Welcome to my weary soul. 

7. — It is nio;ht : darkness has aoain veiled these lower 
regions, and all is hushed in silence. Life is only a repe- 
tition of the same occurrences ; days fly successively 
away, and nights succeed each other. A certain number 
of these revolutions we must experience, and then time 
with us will be no more. Prepare me, O Lord, to live 
and reign with thee. Sinful as I am, I trust I may style 
myself thine. 

Our dear minister preached, on the last Sabbath, con- 
cerning Peter's denying his Lord. I felt much interested 
in the sermon, and could scarcely forbear weeping when I 
. thought of Peter's crime and of my own liability to com- 
mit the same. But is it possible ? Yes — even though I 
should first go so far as to promise to die with him. How 
I ought, then, to watch and pray ; or, like Peter, I may 
hereafter weep bitterly. 

10. — Have been blessed with a pleasant interview, this 
afternoon, with Miss M. B. from Portland. Two years 
g,go I was introduced to her, when we spent many happy 
hours together. How sweet, and yet how bitter, too, is 
the recollection ; bitter, because we never shall enjoy such 
hours again — ^no, never while we are confined to these 
clayey tabernacles. One friend, who then blest our soci- 
ety, is now no more. She has finished her earthly labors, 
and left us to mourn her absence. But though she is 



1818.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 127 

gone, I trust her advice still lives in many a heart. Ano- 
ther is gone to labor among the heathen — a glorious work, 
and O may it be prospered. 

13. — What a peculiar and strong attachment there is 
between christians. This 1 have experienced this even- 
ing, on meeting with Miss S. — a stranger, but an engaged 
christian. We seemed to fort^et that we were strano;ers, 
and to recollect only that indissoluble union w4iich so close- 
ly connected us with each other and with our blessed 
Master. She has lately become acquainted with experi- 
mental rehgion, having been one of the subjects of a revi- 
val in Maine. There are now three females among us 
from that State, each very much engaged in religion. O 
that they might do us good. 

20. — Again I take my pen, though much fatigued. I 
have resolved to devote the greater part of this night, 
should my strength allow it, to reading, writing, medita- 
tion and prayer. These night seasons are precious and 
welcome to my soul. Sleep is a dull employment, and 
we ought, I think, to give as little time to it as will pos- 
sibly suffice. 

22. — My scriptural Monitor produces this text for my 
meditation to-day : '^ The voice of rejoicing is in the tab- 
ernacles of the righteous." Where else, indeed, can there 
be true rejoicing ? Blessed source of happiness ! When 
disappointments assail, and my agitated bosom can find no 
rest, I do feel a sweet composure, an unspeakable joy, in 
leaving all with my covenant God, and relying solely on 
him. I have found him faithful, and I love to meditate 
on his ways, and to depend upon his all-sufficient grace. 



128 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [J^oV. 

Ye infidels, with all your art, ye cannot substitute a com- 
fort like this. 

^' I could from all things parted be, 
But never, never, Lord, from thee." 

Nov. 4. — I desire to thank God for sending hither en- 
gaged christians, eminently qualified to do good. I hope 
they will prove blessings to this place, while I, with my 
feeble efforts, lend them a little aid. Our object is to in- 
stitute a society of females, to meet one afternoon in each 
week to sew, and apply the proceeds to the education of 
young men for the ministry. I meet with same discour- 
agements ; opposition I do not care for. Lord, without 
thy blessing, all our exertions will be in vain. Wilt thou 
bless us and grant us success, and may we find many dis- 
posed to engage in aiding this desirable object. 

7. — What an important thing it is to be a christian in- 
deed. It does not consist in outward rites and forms. We 
may go far in our professions, and yet be strangers to 
vital religion, and know nothing of that renovation of 
heart so strongly inculcated by our Saviour. We may 
preach to others, and at last ourselves be cast away. Our 
own hearts we may easily deceive, and we may also de- 
ceive others ; but God, the great Searcher of hearts, we 
can never deceive. Vice is ever creeping in, the moment 
we are off our guard. We must watch and pray always. 
Sloth and negligence are very apt to attend us, and are 
always inimical to our soul's concerns. There are many 
inlets for sin, in consequence of our innate love to it ; and 
in resisting these, it is often requisite that we pluck off a 
right hand and part with a right eye. But it must be done. 



1818.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 129 

We must live anew in Christ Jesus. Our obligations and 
responsibilities are great ; we have much to perform be- 
tween our own souls and our Creator. There is much to 
do within. But ah ! it is easy to sit down and think of 
our duty, and form rules and resolutions ; but hard, with 
all our evil desires, all our strong inclinations to sin, to 
perform what we ought. But in Christ's strength we can 
effect it. 

10. — ^Another night has come, and I have resolved to 
steal it from sleep and devote its hours to my favorite em- 
ployments. May I not rob nature of some sleep, when 
it has robbed me, by sleep, of so many precious hours ? — 
There is something peculiarly solemn and delightful in 
this midnight season. All nature is hushed to silence, and 
nothing is heard but the soft whispers of the Almighty, 
whose glorious presence is realized within. Surrounded 
with darkness^ under the view of no eye but that of him 
with whom the darkness is as the Ught, and after all the 
cares and toils of the day are past, what can be more de- 
lightful than these sweet hours of calmness and serenity ? 
Here no noise disturbs, nor foe invades ; but, with my pen, 
my books and my God, the hours pass cheerfully away. 
May they not be spent in vain ; may they be remembered 
with sensations of pleasure and gratitude when time shall 
be no more. 

O it must be a happy season when all the brethren and 
sisters get home to their Father's house, and inherit the 
kingdom prepared for them. But can such an unworthy 
creature as myself be a possessor of such superior bliss in 
the heavenly world ? Who am I— what is my life — that 



23 



130 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [JVoV, 

I should be nearly allied to the King; or, what is far 
more, be own child to the King of Kings ? My God, 
what shall I render unto thee ? I cannot repay thee for 
thy rich gifts — thine unmerited favors. 
21. Saturday Night, 12 o'' clock.— 

'Tis night — and darkness reigns around 

This habitable earth ; 
1 hear no voice — no dismal sound — 

Nor noise of giddy mirth. 

But all is silent; save the breeze, 

Soft gliding through the air, 
And gently rustling in the trees. 

Catches my list'ning ear. 

The cares and toils of day are past, 

And one more night is come ; 
Think, O my soul, perhaps my last — 

For this is not thy home. 

Sleep overcomes our mortal race ; 

In silence they are laid, 
While angels fly from place to place, 

And watch their sleeping bed. 

The last, dark night, will shortly come — 

Nature must droop and die ; 
Soon we must meet our solemn doom. 

Above this lower sky. 

But O, ye saints, why should you fear 

This dreary night of death ? 
For you shall meet your Saviour there. 

Whom now you view in faith. 

Welcome the sweet, the precious day. 

When, from this clay undrest. 
You're borne by seraphs far awa^, 

To be forever blest. 



i 



1818.J DIARY AND COHRESPONDENCE. 131 

There weeks and Sabbaths never end, 

And tears no more invade — 
There you will be with Christ — your Friend, 

Your Saviour, and your Head. 

To heaven I stretch my longing eyes. 

And wait the welcome voice 
That bids my grov'Iing spirit rise 

To taste superior joys. 

23. — O what will become of a stupid, careless christ- 
ian ? But with what unbecoming w ords do I burden the 
christian name ! Was there ever such a christian as this ? 
Was ever a creature slothful, who was so highly honored 
as to be permitted to engage in the most glorious of 
causes — with everything before him to do, and everything 
to induce him to engage in the dehghtful w^ork ? O my 
soul, press boldly forward. Leave the world and all its 
cares behind, and follow Christ in thought, word and deed. 
God wants not a lukewarm, inactive soul, half devoted to 
the world and half to him. Come, then, and give him all 
your heart, and '' on this blissful centre rest." 

29. — One thing embitters my days and deprives me of 
comfort. I fear I do live a cumberer of the ground. No 
door seems to be open for me to do anything. O my God, 
wilt thou not employ me in thy service ? Hast thou not 
some corner in thy vineyard, either here or elsewhere, for 
me to labor in ? Send me, I beseech thee, where thou 
wilt ; I care not whether I am at home or abroad, on the 
eastern or western continent, in Hindostan's sultry clime 
or on the cold shores of Greenland, among civilized or un- 
civilized people, if I may but be useful. And shall I pray 



132 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [Dec, 

and sigh in vain ? Thou who hast said — " Ask, and ye 
shall receive," O grant me this one request. If I am un- 
qualified, thou canst qualify me, for thy grace is sufficient. 
I do not ask a life of ease or comfort here ; I only ask to 
be permitted to labor for the souls of my fellow creatures. 
Grant me this, O my God, and I desire no more. 

Dec. 20. — The bright luminary of day is shedding his 
beams on the earth as he rises in all his splendor, dispel- 
ling darkness and clouds. How many thousands of human 
beings are witnessing the re-appearance of this glorious 
orb of light. I am often lost in astonishment when I re- 
flect on this mighty w^ork of the Deity, and am led to ex- 
claim — '^ What is man, that thou art mindful of him?" 
But when I stretch my thoughts still further ; w^hen I 
consider that there are other worlds, all under the guidance 
and direction of the Majesty of heaven — that the sun, 
though so small in appearance to the naked eye, is abun- 
dantly larger than this whole earth on which such vast 
oceans roll and lofty mountains rise ; when I view all these 
twinkling stars, and consider that they are suns to other 
worlds, I am lost in wonder. O how great, how infinite, 
must be that Being who with a glance can take in all 
these fixed and moving spheres, while the smallest insect 
is not without its share of his beneficence ! 

TO MISS L. S. OF Q,. 

Dorchester, December 22, 1818. 
Perhaps you will be astonished at the reception of a 
letter from one with whom you have little acquaintance ; 
but why shouM we call ourselves strangers, when we are 



1818.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 133 

united by such tender ties, are children of one Father, 
and travellers to the same happy home ? I have wished 
to form an acquaintance with you ever since you became 
united to our church. Opportunities of seeing you, how- 
ever, are very few, and I therefore take my pen and pro- 
pose a correspondence, should it be agreeable to you. 1 
feel that I do not deserve any of your precious time ; but 
if you can find a leisure hour that cannot be better em- 
ployed, I trust you will think of your unworthy sister. 

My dear L., what duties are incumbent on us as christ- 
ians ? We have commenced a warfare ; we have foes 
both within and without to conquer — the world watching 
us on every side and waiting for our halting, and a heart 
prone to evil continually. But this is a short life. We 
have a limited journey to accomplish, and then all these 
contests will be over. The world will then make havoc 
of our feeble graces no more ; Satan's molestations will be 
at an end ; and all the sighs and sorrows which now heave 
our bosoms, will be exchanged for songs of rejoicing. O 
what joy, wiiat unparalleled joy, will that hour unfold, 
when Sin, our worst enemy, shall be subdued, and we 
assimilated to the glorious likeness of our ImmanueL 
There we shall no more inquire the path of duty — no 
longer hesitate what to do, nor mourn because we do no 
more. Blest with the presence of God, how shall we 
gaze on his glory with ineffable delight, and improve in 
felicity and knowledge through the revolutions of eternal 
ages. But how faint are our most exalted conceptions, 
our most enlightened views, of this happy, happy place ! 
And yet words are inadequate to express even our feeble 
14 



134 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [Dec» 

views. O may our hearts expand with love to God. We 
should be constantly engaged in his cause ; and when so 
miich awaits us, shall we be idle or slothful ? Should 
christians keep eternity more in view, and oftener contem- 
plate the importance of being prepared for heaven, they 
could not feel the coldness and languor to which they are 
so liable. Did we realize more the worth of an immortal 
soul, and the infinite loss sustained by its neglect, w^e 
should certainly feel more fervor and animation ; we 
should habitually be looking to Jesus, and be earnest and 
importunate in our supplications to the mercy seat. Our 
closets and consciences would not attest to those strange 
aversions, wanderings, and seasons of coldness, which have 
often given a blot to our profession, and hindered those 
who were seeking to enter in at the straight gate. O, if 
it is a truth that the soul is of more value than millions of 
worlds, that it must exist forever in heaven or hell, and 
'that it is here characters are formed for one or other of 
these worlds, how differently ought we to act and feel. 

My dear L., I fear I shall tire your patience. Instead 
of the few words intended as introductory to an acquaint- 
ance which I hope will never end, a long epistle is written. 
Will you excuse my freedom and overlook all imperfec- 
tions, and if this letter deserves an answer I hope you will 
gratify me with one. Letter writing, I think, is useful. 
As for myself, I here feel a freedom unknown in conver- 
sation ; and when addressing christian friends, I lose every 
embarrassment. I shall esteem your correspondence, 
friendship, and prayers, very highly. Adieu. 

s. H. c. 



1818.] PIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 135 

31. — Another year has gone, its hours forever fled. A 
year — an age — what is it ? It passes away like tlie morn- 
ing cloud and the early dew. I bid farewell to the last 
year with a faltering voice, conscious of my many mis- 
spent hours. O how much of it has been thrown away. 

Jan. 1, 1819. — At the commencement of this new 
year, my kind Saviour, I yield myself renewedly to thee. 

save me from temptations without and foes and fears 
within. Be near me in whatever trials await me. Guide 
and protect me through this fading world, prepare me for 
heaven, and in thine own time take me hence. Lord, 
thou knowest the scenes of my future hfe, but from me 
thev are concealed. All my past years have been begun 
and ended in peace and tranquillity. Near friends and 
relations are still spared ; food and raiment sufficient is be- 
stowed ; no dire affliction has wounded my heart, no trial 
shook my frame, nor earthly trouble sunk me d^wn. All 
has been kindness and beneficence, unmerited though it 
was. I do not expect to live so happily another year. 
No, sorrows will aim their darts at me. I, too, as well as 
others, must suffer afflictions here. Hitherto mv own de- 
praved heart, with its wicked inclinations, has been my 
chief source of grief. I often ask why my path is so plea- 
sant, while others walk through thorns and briars. But 
perhaps God is preparing for me severe afflictions. Yes, 

1 often think that the time mav come when I shall siorh 
for the return of these happy departed hours. Yet though 
the futm^e is lodged as in chaos, it is a sweet rehef and 
comfort to know that God will order all. If I may but be 
useful, why should I fear a few trials ? I do not ; I would 



136 



HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [Jan, 



press forward, overcome them all, and do my Father's will. 
But how should I blush wlien I think how ungrateful I 
have been to the Giver of all my blessings — to him who 
kindly took me under his protection from the first moment 
of my existence, and at an early period brought me to an 
acquaintance with himself. O how ought 1 to be over- 
whelmed with gratitude ! Lord, inflame my heart with 
love and gratitude, for I acknowledge my unworthiness of 
the least of thy mercies. 

3. Sabbath Eve. — Not more welcome to the hungry 
man is a supply of delicious food, than the glad tidings of 
salvation, the faithful preaching of the word, tome. This 
afternoon our beloved pastor preached from Psalm xxxi. 
15, and this evening from Rom. xiii. 11. There seems 
to be a hearing ear, and O may the word preached be 
attended with a blessing. Could I see those whose anx- 
ious concern now appears to be what they shall eat, what 
they shall drink, and wherewithal they shall be clothed ; 
those whose chief aim it is to obtain the riches of this 
world, its vain honors and applause, and who love its 
pleasures above everything else ; O could I see them 
seeking with tears the way to Zion, with their faces thith- 
erward, nature could hardly sustain the joy it would afford. 
My dear young friends, my heart bleeds for you. O that 
I could take you by the hand and lead you to Christ. 
Here is a fountain opened to cleanse you from all pollution. 
Come, my dear friends, all things are ready. And will 
you refuse every invitation, and ruin your souls ? Must 
those souls be lost — those never-dying souls ? How can 
I bear to part forever with those who are dear to me here ? 



1819.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 137 

Come, then, and let us follow our Saviour together. Let 
us walk in wisdom's paths, for they are paths of pleasant- 
ness ; and then, when we drop this mortal clay, we shall 
go where Jesus reigns, and be happy with him forever. 

Have been reading some extracts from Mrs. C.'s jour- 
nal on her passage to India. How happy they must have 
been to see the ship's company turning to the Lord. I 
hope they are now landed safe in Burmah, and are em- 
ployed in doing good. What a blessed employment ! In- 
telligence from missionaries, particularly those with whom 
1 have been acquainted, affords me much delight. To 
hear that they meet with success, and gain the souls of 
the poor heathen^ is indeed transporting. I long to go 
where I can instruct the ignorant — where I can be useful 
— were it through difficulties and trials to the ends of the 
earth. I feel more for the poor heathen than I can pos- 
sibly express, and more and more earnestly desire to go 
among them. I have feared that this desire arose from 
wrong motives ; but the more engaged I feel in religion, the 
more earnestly I wish to go and tell the perishing heathen 
that there is a Saviour. I have not ventured to unbosom 
this desire to a single person ; and should I submit it to 
my friends, I know they would object to my youth, and 
perhaps with reason. But* I feel that life is short ; I have 
health and strength, and the grace of God is sufficient to 
supply all my deficiencies ; and why may I not begin 
betimes ? I long to give up my whole life to this 
glorious work. I await the will of my heavenly Father, 
and may he calm my mind and make ma contented. 

23. — The sun is disappearing in the west. I catch its 
14# 



138 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [Jaiu 

last faint rays, and bid it once more adieu. It is also the 
closing scene of one more week. And thus our life draws 
to a close. It is but a shadow, that soon fleeth away. 

A fresh warning — the sound of a funeral knell — falls 
upon my ear. It seems like a still small voice from the 
courts of heaven — a gentle whisper from an omniscient 
God — saying. Your time also is near. Pensive and sol- 
emn, I meditate on the important summons. A death- 
like calmness surrounds me. All is silence, like that of 
the grave where mortality must soon lodge. Yes, these 
active limbs must soon decay, these eyes grow dim, and 
this voice falter, while the cold arms of death encircle me. 
This head must then rest among yonder clods ; and all 
earthly pursuits and expectations, all earthly comforts and 
schemes, that now engage my attention, vanish as though 
they were never known. I must soon be by the side of 
her who has just departed, and who has gone a little while 
• before me to the lonely grave. May I but go to Jesus — 
may I but join the heavenly choir — and I can welcome 
death, welcome the hour that releases me from this clay 
and this world of wickedness and sorrow. 

TO MISS H. W. OF D. 

Dorchester,, January 25, 1819. 
It is with a trembling hand, my dear Miss W., that I 
take my pen to comply with your request — deeply sensi- 
ble of my inability to furnish anything for your edification 
or improvement. I know you do not wish for a specimen 
of elegant writing ; the simple, unstudied style of a christ- 
ian sister will better suit you. The flattering compliments 



1819.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 139 

of the vain world are but empty sounds. The common 
occurrences of life deserve but little room in the inter- 
course between children of a heavenly Parent. But the 
difficulties and dangers, the privations and hardships, 
which we have to encounter in the enemy's grounds, and 
the joys of the beloved home to which we are travelling, 
ought to occupy our thoughts. Yes, we are but sojourn- 
ers here — '' pilgrims through this barren land." Our 
Father has prepared us a way in the midst of it, but this 
way is surrounded with many and dangerous foes. Yet 
the time is not far distant when we shall complete our 
journey ; and if w^e have pursued it aright, we shall then 
greet our wished-for home, meet our smiling Father, and 
take possession of mansions prepared by God himself be- 
fore the foundation of the world. 

Evening now draws her sable curtains, and darkness 
pervades this portion of our earth. But O how different 
from the darkness of that hour when the mighty Saviour, 
the Prince of Peace, was extended on the accursed tree. 
Well might the sun with astonishment withdraw, and 
earth tremble, to behold the great Redeemer of man thus 
cruelly put to death by the very creatures whom he came 
to save. With what emotions, my dear, should we have 
looked on this spectacle ? How should we feel to see 
our Saviour now groaning and expiring in agonies inde- 
scribable ? Is it possible our hearts are such that they 
would concur in the awful deed of crucifying him ? Would 
they have assented to put to death our blessed Mediator ; 
or could we, like Peter, behold him despised and rejected 
of men, buffeted by his enemies, and without one com- 



140 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [Jan. 

forter, and deny him ? O how should we be on our 
guard, for our hearts are the same as his. May that dis- 
ciple be a warning to us. None professed more zeal for 
their Lord, than Peter. Do we possess his zeal ? We, 
too, like him, may fall ; like liim we may deny our Lord. 
We must be prayerful and watchful, resisting every temp- 
tation, and shunning every evil way. Such is the situa- 
tion of the christian, that the least deviation may be 
attended with awful consequences to others around him, 
besides the danger to which it subjects himself. We are 
as a city set on a hill, that cannot be hid. We are watch- 
ed on every side ; and our life and conversation must be 
as becometh the gospel of Christ, or we certainly wound 
his blessed cause. O that our lives could be so holy 
and blameless that others might see that religion does 
make us better — more useful and more agreeable, both at 
home and abroad. Our obligations are very great ; the 
vows of God are upon us ; we have openly professed to 
come out from the world and be separate : and do we in 
very deed live up to our obligations and professions ? 
There is much required of us ; and what do we perform ? 
Zion's walls are to be built ; and are we at work ? The 
gospel must be jireached to every creature ; precious souls 
are perishing for lack of vision ; there is a famine for Bi- 
bles : and what are we doing ? O my sister, everything 
calls for diligence ; our own souls and the souls of our fel- 
low creatures have demands upon us. The graces of the 
christian must be kept in constant exercise. The fond 
wishes and desires of the heart must be abridged, and our 
lusts subdued. 



1819.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 141 

I would expatiate more on this subject, but conscious 
guilt prevents ; for you might justly say — " Physician, 
heal thyself." Ah, it is easy to read my duty, and know 
it too, but hard to perform all it requires. " What I would, 
I do not ; but w hat I would not, that do I." But all these 
fightings and tumults will ere long cease. It is pleasant 
to meditate on the happy period when the spirit shall be 
chained to flesh no more — pleasant, and yet solemn, to 
think of eternity. It hastens, and soon w ill burst upon us. 
If we have built our hopes on a good foundation, and are 
indeed united to Christ, w^e shall then be hapj)y — happy 
beyond description in that blessed world where sorrow and 
sighing shall never come. O sweet release ! And O, my 
sister, if w^e arrive at that blissful shore, after this tempes- 
tuous voyage of life, how we shall swell our songs of vic- 
tory. How eager vve shall be to express our gratitude to 
our Redeeaier, and tell each other what he has done to 
bring us there. A circle of brothers and sisters, how free- 
ly shalHve acknow^ledge our obhgations to our kind Father. 
O wdiat a happy family ! But feeble w^ords fall far short 
of a true description of this latter glory. 

The striking clock reminds me of the lateness of the 
hour. I must close. Truly these are inexhaustible sub- 
jects. Remember me in your prayers. I remain yours, 
in christian affection. s. h. c, 

Feb, 2. — A charming evening. No cloud Intercepts 
the bright rays of the moon. All nature is hushed in un- 
interrupted silence. O for a voice to praise the Creator — 
a voice as untainted with sin and as acceptable to God, as 



142 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [Feb. 

the innocent bleating of the lamb or the chirping of the 
bird, or the now silent praises of both animate and inani- 
mate creation. 

9. — Once more my plans for the acquirement of useful 
knowledge have been frustrated. My intention was to be 
qualified to teach the ignorant — those who never knew a 
Saviour's name. To this delightful employment I long to 
devote my powers and faculties. I wish to give up my 
life, and all I have, to the service of perishing souls. But 
perhaps my Father has other purposes respecting me. If 
so, his holy will be done. I have long since learned to 
place no sure dependence on earthly things. Nothing, 
perhaps, would have afforded me more joy than the suc- 
cess of my recent plan ; but it has been ordered otherwise, 
and I am contented. 

18.— This is a dismal, melancholy day. Four unhappy 
men are to be executed at Boston, in the presence of gaz- 
ing thousands, having been found guilty of piracy and 
murder. How will they stand at the bar of a just and 
holy God, and their precious immortal souls meet their 
awful destiny ? Must they be irrecoverably lost ? O that 
I could rescue them from everlasting destruction ! Could 
I do it by yielding up my own life, it should willingly be 
done. Lord of heaven, have mercy on them ; or if their 
day of grace is past — if there is no mercy for them — may 
their awful exit be a monitory call to those who witness 
it, and lead them to take heed to their ways. 

25. — O how sweet is liberty — doubly sweet to the 
once burdened soul. I can adopt the language of an 
excellent poet : 



1819.] DIARY AND CORREISPONDENCE* 143 

** I'm tired with visits, modes, and forms, 
And llalt'ries paid to fellow v/orms — 

Their conversation cloys, 
Their vain amours and empty stuff; 
But I can ne'er enjoy enough 
Of thy dear company, my Lord, 

Thou life of all my joys." 

Three o^ clock, — It Is night — dark night. The tempest 
howls through the air, waters fall, and universal nature 
seems in convulsions. Yet 

" God rides upon the stormy wind, 
And manages the seas." 



TO Miss L. S. OF Q,. 

Dorchester, March 10, 1819. 
Once more I direct my thoughts to Q., and inquire 
how it is with my beloved fellow pilgrim there. She is 
living, I hope, near to God, and enjoying all the consola- 
tions of religion, which are neither few nor small. Reli- 
gion can cheer us as we journey through this vale of tears 
— can alleviate our woes, bear us up under every affliction, 
and impart joys which the world can neither give nor take 
away. O may this letter find you realizing all the worth 
of religion — enjoying all its comforts here, and pursuing 
with alacrity the way which leads to joys above this lower 
world, beyond our feeble vision. Is not the religion of 
the gospel like some firm rock that has weathered the 
wintry blast and the howling tempest — that has sheltered 
frail mortals from impending dangers — and still stands sure 
and unmoved? All the complicated exertions of the 
learned and the ignorant to undermine its stability have 



144 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [March, 

proved utterly ineffectual ; it still stands, still protecting 
and defending^ still rescuing from threatened danger. Let 
infidels boast of their better system ; it cannot, like this, 
afford a ^' refuge from the stormy blast, a covert from the 
wind." O happy the soul fixed on this firm rock. It 
shall appear thus to mocking enemies when this vain 
world shall be no more. When the last trump shall sound, 
and the decisive voice be heard declaring that time shall 
be no more — when the receptacles of the dead are opened, 
and all the sleeping nations raised to judgment — then, then 
will appear the preciousness of this sure foundation ; then 
it will be known that the christian did not plead with God 
for nought — that he had reason to warn sinners to flee 
from the wrath to come. O what an hour will this be to 
those who have rejected the Saviour. Then will they 
see that the poor despised followers of Christ, whom they 
once deemed mad enthusiasts, did really know and feel 
the worth of this neglected prize. Then will they wish, 
but wish in vain, that they, too, had made a better choice. 
O, Lucy, what will be ovr final destiny ? Are we in- 
deed preparing for the blessed world above ? are we rip- 
ening for glory ? Or are we only heaping up wrath against 
the day of wrath, being deceived by our own wicked 
hearts ? After all our professions and pretensions, should 
we be weighed in the balance and found wanting, awful 
indeed would be our condition. O how important is self- 
examination — candid, impartial self-examination. Among 
all our other concerns, the duty enjoined in this short 
command — '^ Know thyself." ought ever to be remember- 
ed and strictly attended to. It is of all things the most 



ISlO.l DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. l45 

important to have our hearts right with God. Less than 
the whole heart, our Saviour very justly refuses. If we 
love the-w^orld, the love of the Father is not m us. 

A christian is capable of doing much injury to the cause 
of Christ. If he is not constantly on his guard, some in- 
advertent word or action may be noticed by others, which 
will wound the cause he professes to love. We must 
therefore watch — watch and pray — lest we by this means 
cause the ruin of some immortal soul. Shall w^e in one 
fatal hour destroy what our Saviour died to redeem? 
Surely there is nothing of more importance than to live 
near to God. There is no preservative against an unholy 
and blameable conversation — no incentive to pious zeal 
and activity — no source of comfort and unspeakable joy — 
like a constant walk with God. What dignifies the human 
creature so much as having all his wishes and desires cen- 
tred in his heavenly Father — submitting, without murmur- 
ing, to his gentle rebukes — and daily increasing in grace 
and divine knowledge ? But where shall we find the 
christian who thus maintains at all times a consistent walk 
with God ; whom nothing can allure from a strict adher- 
ence to all his commands ; who manifests a deference to 
his Father's will in all his w'ords and actions ; who lives 
above the world and has his conversation in heaven ? It 
is to be lamented there are so few. 

O, shall we not be engaged ? Shall w^e not be up and 
doing, be vigilant and active, wdien every important con- 
cern calls forth to exertion, and every important conside- 
ration is an inducement to comply ? O shall we, can we, 
be idle? We must conquer our wicked hearts — must 
15 



146 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [March 

overcome the temptations of Satan and this evil world, 
and lend our aid to advance the Redeemer's kingdom. 
And are we still slothful ? But I would not implicate 
you. It is myself I have cause to censure for slothfulness 
and inactivity. You, I trust, are engaged in building the 
walls of Zion. Go on, my friend. Let no opposition dis- 
courage you. Do w^hat you know to be yom^ duty, what- 
ever opposes, leaving the event w^ith God. And O pray 
for your unw^orthy friend, that she, too, may be profitably 
employed. 

I could write much more, but fear I shall w^eary you, 
though I have not yet answered the full demands of your 
very acceptable letter. Please overlook all imperfections. 
I should be extremely happy to make you a visit this 
winter, and if it is our Father's will, a convenient oppor- 
tunity will be provided. I remain 

Yours, affectionately. s. h. c. 

18. — Night once more draws its sable curtains around 
us. The sun hides its effulgence behind yonder hills, and 
" nature all silent lies." But Jesus lives and reigns — 
Jesus, the kind Intercessor of our fallen race, the adorable 
Saviour. Ye angels, strike your harps, and ascribe to 
him glory and honor. Ye seraphs, serve and praise him, 
until an innumerable company, purchased by his own 
blood, shall join and vie with you in duty and in bliss. 

21. Sabbath. — Again I must not enter those sacred 
courts where I have so often sat beneath the pure drop- 
pings of the sanctuary. I have been repeating some of 
the words of the holy Psalmist, and think they are the 



1819.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 147 

sincere language of my heart. "As the hart panteth 
after the water brooks, so panteth my soul after thee, O 
God. How amiable are thy tabernacles, O Lord of 
hosts." O what a precious book is the Bible — a sweet, 
a rich treasure ! The more I read it, the more highly do 
I prize it. 

TO MISS L. S. OF Q. 

Dorchester, March 25, 1819. 

On Monday last, my ever dear Lucy, your most inter- 
esting epistle was handed me, and met with a cordial re- 
ception. For three Sabbaths I had been prevented from 
going to the house of God. On the day of our commu- 
nion I was, like yourself, disappointed, and, \ fear, sub- 
mitted too reluctantly. O w^hat could reconcile us to all 
our privations, but the sweet assurance that our heavenly 
Father orders them for good ? Yet how often are they 
the origin of lasting comforts, even here. Yes, how often 
do christians have cause to exclaim, Sw^eet affliction ! 

I have just laid down the Recorder, in which I have 
been perusing, with deep interest, a circular addressed to 
females. I could not restrain my tears when I read and 
reflected on the destitution of millions on our earth. " We 
plead," says the address, " the cause of six hundred mil- 
lions of our race, to whom the advent of a Saviour never 
was proclaimed ; and of millions, too, in our own land 
(yes, of millions), deprived of gospel ordinances, multi* 
tudes of w^hom are most afFectingly entreating us to send 
among them the messengers of God," How much I have 
felt for the heathen world, I can never express. Ever 



148 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [March 

Since I became convinced of the importance of religion, 
and indulged a hope thit I felt its influence, which is now 
more than four years, I have entertained an ardent and 
increasing desire to become useful to the heathen — to be 
the means of meliorating, in some humble measure, their 
lamentable state. O can our hearts, adamantine as tliey 
are, forbear to melt when reflecting on their miserable 
condition ? 

We need not look beyond the Atlantic to find those 
who are thus suffering. We need not search Indostan's 
burning shores, nor Lapland's frigid clime. We need 
not traverse Europe, Asia, or Africa, to find the wretched 
heathen. Our western continent, as stated in the address 
alluded to, affords enough to extort a tear from every eye. 
Yes, America contains those who never hear a Saviour's 
name. In our own native land are thousands who know 
nothing of the religion we profess. Shall we suffer them 
to live and die in this awful ignorance ? Shall they still 
pursue the beaten path of sin, live in open rebellion to the 
God w^ho made them, and remain subject to all the unal- 
leviated distresses of life, without one cheering thought of 
a better w^orld — w^ithout the Bible in their hands to point 
them to glory ? Even humanity and common benevo- 
lence recoil at the thought ; but how much stronger claims 
do they have upon us as christians. O we must weep 
in secret places for these never-dying souls. May we 
both, in God's own w^ay, be conducive to the promotion 
of their eternal good. We certainly could not think any 
earthly sacrifice too great for this purpose. I have thought 
much of the young in these destitute places, growing up 



J819.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 149 

in all the sin and ignorance of their parents. O that they 
might have their tender minds imjoressed with religious 
truth. Were I qualified for instructing them, most readily 
would I engage in the delightful employment. It has 
been my daily prayer to God that he would make me 
useful in some way. The thought of a useless hfe is in- 
supportable. Sometimes^ however, I fear I am too soli- 
citous for a change of place in order to do good ; but my 
present situation is peculiarly unfavorable to usefulness. 
In some humble sphere I long, ardently long, to advance 
the Redeemer's kingdom — to imitate the example of our 
blessed Lord, who went about doing good. 

O how very thankful we ought to be, that while mil- 
lions sit in heathenish darkness, we are blessed with the 
full light of the gospel. But where much is given, much 
also is required. Do we live worthy of our high and holy 
Avocation ? and in this present evil w^orld does our light so 
shine before others as to induce them to love the gospel 
we profess ? O, my dear Lucy, why is it that christians 
are not more under the enlivening influence of the Holy 
Spirit — far more zealously and efficiently active, and more 
united one with another? Why do they so often com- 
plain of doubts, and coldness, and indifference ? Do not 
these things proceed from a want of love to God, and a 
too great proneness to love the world ? Alas ! our vile, 
deceitful hearts. If they are renewed by grace, they are 
sanctified but in part. O may we be daily putting off the 
old man with his deeds — daily growing in grace and in 
the knowledge of our Lord. 

Candidates as we are for eternity, and only probationers 
15* 



150 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [^pril, 

here below — standing as we do on the brink of Jordan^ and 
hable at any moment to be sumamoned across the stream 
and enter a world entirely newj there to receive according 
to our deeds — what can be more proper or more neces- 
sary than frequently to inquire if we are prepared to go ? 
How can we be too solicitous for our eternal welfare ? O, 
my sister, the day is just at hand when our mortal part 
must mingle with its kindred dust and moulder beneath 
the clods. But a far more trying test awaits this vital 
part within. At that solemn hour may my dear Lucy 
and her unworthy Susannah be found leaning on all-suffi- 
cient aid — be judged and acquitted, and received into 
heavenly mansions. God grant this may be our happy 
portion. Then shall this affection, begun below, heighten 
and increase when time is no more. 

Wishing you that comfort and peace which passeth un- 
derstanding, and requesting an interest in your prayers 
and a continuance of your letters, I subscribe myself 
yours, with christian affection. s. h. c. 

Aj)ril 14. — 

^' In this world of sin and sorrow, 
Compass'd round with many a care, 
From eternity we borrow 
Hope that can exclude despair." 

Could not the eye of faith pierce through these dark 
clouds and behold a world of joy and eternal rest, what 
would support us when earthly comforts fail ? • Again my 
faith is tried. Prospects had begun to appear more pro- 
mising. I thought I saw plainly the path in which I 
should walk. I had ceased to inquire what I should do, 



1819.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDEiNCE. 151 

thinking duty was plain. But at this mon^ent all my 
plans were thwarted. What I had most depended upon 
and thought most sure, was withheld, and again am 1 
thrown into doubt and perplexity. But tiie language of 
my heart, I trust, is — '^ It is the Lord, let him do what 
seemeth him good." For many years has my kind Fath- 
er kept me under his care and protection, and shall I dis- 
trust him now? O no — he will provide. 

TO MISS S. C. OF D. 

Dorchester, April, 1819. 
I resume my pen to answer your recent letter, in which 
you write much of trouble. Yes, this is a troublesome 
world. The gourd w^hich yields us much delight to-day, 
has a worm at its root, and to-morrow it will wither and 
die. To-day we may be possessed of many comforts, 
promising never to forsake us, but to-morrow all may van- 
ish. Such is the instability of all sublunary things. Ere 
we are aware, the airy phantoms elude cur grasp. But 
of what little consequence it is, my dear S., if these things 
do fail us. Have we not a treasure laid up in heaven ? 
Eternity is very near at hand ; and is there not a seat pro- 
vided for us above, where we shall be forever happy ? Is 
not Jordan's stream rolling just before us, and the messen- 
ger very near to bear us beyond it ? If we have made 
our peace with God, w^e shall then partake of joys above 
our feeble conceptions, and shall ever remain in the pre- 
sence of that adorable Saviour who redeemed us from sin 
and wo. With such scenes in prospect before us, so re- 
plete with solemnity and with joy unutterable — with such 



152 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [Jpril, 

an important concern in view as the eternal welfare of the 
never-dying soul^ how are we to feel and act ? Certainly 
we should search dihgently for the path to glory, and 
strive to enter in at the straight gate. And are we still 
grovelling in the dust ? Are we cleaving steadfastly to 
this passing w^orld, and laying up our treasures where moth 
and rust do corrupt ? How^ inconsistent ! O, S., let us 
strive more to live above the world, and to have our hearts 
and our portion in heaven. This will smooth the rugged 
path of life ; this w^ill alleviate our woes, lighten our bur- 
den, and sweeten the bitter w^aters of Marah ; and this 
w^ill also bear us safe to an eternity of rest. We may 
then pass swaftly 

"Tlirougli the ruffling storms of this vain, vexing world, 

Tread down its cares — those ragged thorns that lie across the road — 

Nor spend a tear u}3on them. 

We travel through a desert, and our feet 
Have measured a fair space, have left behind 
A thousand dangers, and a thousand snares, 
Well 'scaped. Months that are gone, are gone forever, 
And have borne away each its own load. Every pulse 
Beats a sharp moment of the pain away. 
And the last stroke will come. By swift degrees 
Time sweeps us off, and we shall soon arrive 
At life's sweet period. O celestial point, 
That ends this mortal story." 

Yours, affectionately. s. h. c. 

18. — If I am indeed one of the ransomed of the Lord, 
how much I have to thank him for. Next to the great 
privilege of being a child of God, is that of being called 
while young. O this is a great blessing, which is not 
duly appreciated. To begin, as life begins, to serve the 



1819.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 153 

Lord — ere the world, with all itsflatteriDg charms, has ta- 
ken possession of the heart — is blessedness indeed. I 
often think that had I remained until now before my peace 
was made with God — so great would have been the ob- 
stacles which the ridicule of gay friends and a fondness for 
the pleasures of the world would have presented — it would 
never have been done. Almost seventeen years of my hfe 
are now past, and I lament that only one fourth part of it 
has been devoted to God, and that in a poor manner. O 
blessed be God for all his benefits. What shall I render 
unto him ? It is far beyond my power to compensate liim 
for the least of his favors ; for such is my depraved nature 
jhat I am daily incurring his displeasure. Even my very 
tears of repentance need to be washed with tears of re- 
pentance again, and every prayer needs another prayer 
to recommend it to heaven. 

21. — Have visited this afternoon at Mrs. 's ; a 

very agreeable woman. O that she were a child of God ! 
Only the one thing needful is wanting. How many such 
people in the course of my pilgrimage do I meet with : 
some, who hav^e superior talents, and who, if they only 
possessed this precious pearl, might be eminently useful 
in the world ; others, who profess to know and possess re- 
ligion — who go monthly to the table of the Lord, and 
weekly to the house of God — who live an upright life, 
deal justly and love mercy, to human view — and yet are 
never heard to converse on this important subject, either 
to recommend it to others or to warn them of their dan- 
ger without it. These, of all characters, are the n^.ost 
difficult for me to understand. But I am not to be tlieir 
judge. 



154 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [Mai/, 

May 7. — Hav^e been re-perusing my Lucy's last epistle. 
It seems a long time since I last saw my dear christian 
friends. Situated at a distance from them^ unable often 
to attend their precious religious meetings, and at this time 
unusually oj)pressed with care, and engaged in worldly 
occupations, I fear 1 shall grow cold and careless. Yet 
how sweet is the reflection that the Sabbath is near at 
hand. Delightful hours of rest, rendered doubly dehght- 
ful by succeeding, and proving a respite to, a week of 
fatigue and labor. With the same, though increased 
delight, may 1 reflect on that long eternal Sabbath pre- 
pared for the children of God. O come, thrice welcome 
to my soul, after the toils and labors of this lower world 
are over. '^ O, long expected day, begin." 

9. — Another holy day is almost gone. Have attended 
pubhc worship, and engaged for the first time in the duties 
of a Sabbath School teacher. I have long felt a desire to 
do this, but had not courage to come forward and offer 
my weak services among so many of my superiors. At 
length I was requested to engage, and could not refuse. 

my Father, wilt thou enable me to do my duty. I feel 
the responsibility of teaching those dear children. O in- 
struct me, that I may be able to instruct them. 

10. — This day completes 17 years of my life. I shall 
not, probably, sojourn here seventeen years more ; indeed 

1 do not wish it, unless I may be doing good. I shudder 
at the idea of living so many years in vain. How much 
do I owe to my kind Parent who has thus far protected 
me. Years have rolled away, and he has through their 
whole course smoothed for me the path of life. With 



I 



1819.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 155 

reluctance I bid the last year adieu. I look back, and my 
bosom heaves a sigh when I recollect that I cannot recall 
its many pleasing hours, now fled forever from my eager 
grasp. Those days of my childhood, also, which were 
spent in vanity — O could they once more return ! I regret 
the loss of the precious time which was spent in useless 
employments. But those days are gone, and can never 
more be recalled. The whole past seems like a dream — 
a vision of the night — and the earthly future is wrapped 
in impenetrable darkness. 

This day being the commencement of my eighteenth 
year, I desire again solemnly to give myself to God. 
Thine I am, O my Father. To thee belong all my 
powers and faculties. All I have shall be devoted to 
thee. I need thy strength to enable me to fulfil my en- 
gagements, and O wilt thou impart it. 

11. — I now come to take possession of a room just 
erected, and which I wish to dedicate to God. Lord, 
wilt thou ever dwell here. Here may the morning and 
evening sacrifice daily ascend. May no day pass, so long 
as it shall stand, without the occupant here lifting up the 
heart and voice to thee. Here, in this consecrated place, 
may the praises of Immanuel constantly be sung. Come, 
Holy Spirit, breathe into it the air of heaven. Here, 
Lord, I erect my altar. Here is my chosen retreat for 
private devotion, and may I here ever meet thy face. 

12. — I think much of the Sabbath School in which I 
am engaged, and feel my great need of divine assistance, 
that I may be enabled rightly to instruct the dear children 
in the doctrines of our holy religion. God does often 



155 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [June, 

cause seed to spring up which is sown in weakness, and 
O that my feeble endeavors might be thus blest. 

Jane 10. — My religious feelings have been wavering, 
and at times I am in darkness. Doubts, awful in their 
nature, have assaulted me. It has been suggested — Is 
there a God? is the Bible true? is not rehgion only fana- 
ticism ? These dreadful thoughts, though they have been 
only transient, yet as touching the groundwork of my 
greatest comfort, have reduced my faith and love, and 
consequently rendered me unhappy. But O may I never 
be left to dishonor the sacred cause I have espoused. 

*' My sou! (loth wish Mount ZioQ well, 
Wljale'er becomes of me." 

Lord, wilt thou set me right, and forgive all my de- 
viations and wanderings. 

TO MISS O. F. p. OF C. 

Dorchester, June 25, 1819. 
Had inclination alone been consulted, I assure you I 
should not thus long have neglected to write to you. But 
numerous avocations have prevented. It was with the 
greatest pleasure I received your favor, and I hope we have 
commenced a correspondence which will be long conti- 
nued, and profitable to our souls. Yes, we are writing for 
eternity. The effect these letters will have on our hearts 
will probably be experienced when time is no more — 
when these mortal frames shall have put on immortality, 
and this passing world is gone forever. Considering these 
things, my dear sister, and that all our actions must be 
scrutinized by the Judge of heaven, and also that our time 



I 



1819.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 157 

is very short, bow ought we to live ? Surely we ought 
to be pressing forward with holy zeal. We have pro- 
fessedly separated ourselves from the world. We have 
put our hand to the plough, and must not look back. 
The vows of God are upon us. It is a great privilege 
our Father has permitted us to enjoy, that of beginning in 
the morning of life to devote our days to him. Precious 
privilege indeed ! Not unto us, not unto us, but unto him 
be all the glory. , 

Our church has recently had large additions. Well do 
I recollect the time when one communion passed away 
after another^ and no one was added to our number — none 
seemed inclined to follow our Saviour's dying command. 
Cold and stupid indeed have we been. The prevalent 
and earnest cry has been, both by the world and profess- 
ors — ^^ What shall we eat, what shall we drink, and 
wherewithal shall we be clothed ? " while things intimately 
connected with our everlasting peace have been neglected, 
O that we were now more engaged. In your prayers I 
trust you do remember us. I hope we shall yet see many 
turning from the error of their ways, and travelling the 
road to Zion. Desirable, above all things, is the salvation 
of precious, immortal souls. 

Will you excuse all the errors of this hasty and imper- 
fect letter, and write soon. At the throne of grace, re- 
member your unworthy s. 

July Z. — Just returned from a visit in B. How far 
preferable, in my view, is a retired country life, to such 
noise and confusion. May I have a friend and companion 
16 



158 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [July, 

in my Bible and my God, and a heart to enjoy them, and 
this is sufficient. All earthly enjoyments, in comparison, 
dwindle into nothing. 

6. — This day entered a school. May a blessing attend 
my endeavors to acquire knowledge, and may I find some 
of God's dear children among the large number of young 
ladies with whom I find myself surrounded. 

18.— O that I might adorn my profession;, and recoiA- 
mend religion by a becomfng walk. Surrounded by the 
gay and volatile, may each take knowledge of me that I 
have been with Jesus. It is very necessary that a pro- 
fessor should manifest, in word and action, that he is really 
equal to his profession. How does the irregular walk of 
christians injure their Master's blessed cause. We must 
watch and. pray daily and hourly, lest in some unguarded 
moment we do essential harm to the cause we advocate. 
A christian is often placed in a more critical situation than 
he imagines. If he gives only a limited scope, at some 
seasons, to the bias of strong inclination, he may do injury 
to an extent of which he httle thinks. 

25. — Another dear Sabbath arrives — sweet day of rest 
to the weary traveller. Passing through this world — 
through all its changing scenes — how pleasing are these 
hours which mercifully give us a relief from all its cares 
and revive our drooping spirits. 

26. — Returned, on a short visit, to the beloved home 
where seventeen years of my fife have passed peacefully 
away. Now, for the first time, I have taken up my resi- 
dence in another place, for the purpose of attending a 
seminary. How has my heavenly Father provided for 



1819.] 



DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 159 



me. My long-cherished wishes Wte now accompHshed, 
and in a more agreeable way than I had ever anticipated. 
Blessed be his name for thus far disappointing me, and 
now exceeding my wishes. O may I never distrust such 
a Father, w^hose ways are always right. 

Aug. 8. — The light of another holy morning is beam- 
ing upon us, and O may it be such a day as I shall not 
blush to own when called before the awful Majesty of 
heaven. Lord, wilt thou bless the dear children in the 
Sabbath School. For their precious immortal souls, I 
humbly implore the best of heaven's blessings. Cleanse 
them from sin, renew their hearts, and may they receive 
lasting benefit from their instructions. 

30. — In consequence of sickness, with which I have 
been afflicted for the past week, I was brought home last 
night, in the hope that leaving the school a short time will 
restore me to health. Study is a pleasing employment, 
and I have made very close application. Astronomy has 
to me been particularly interesting. A knowledge of the 
wonderful works of the Deity must ever be desirable. 
But how little is known by the most learned. They can 
trace the great Artificer in but a few of his works — in but 
a small part of his wondrous productions. 

Sept. 12.-^Still remain very weak, though some better. 
I desire to be submissive to the will of my heavenly Fath- 
er. It is a great consolation to reflect that all these trials 
are ordered by him. In the hands of this loving Father 
I can cheerfully leave myself and all my concerns. 

19.— Another holy day arrives, and 1 am unable to go 
to the house of God. Dear sacred place. There have I 



160 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [Sept 

heard the truths of th%gospel faithfully dispensed ; there 
have I often wept under a sense of guilt, and there, too, 
has my heart throbbed with joy at the glad news of salva- 
tion to guilty sinners. O shall I forbear to love that 
place ? Frequently have I repaired thither to seek that 
comfort which all earthly things refused to give, and there 
my aching heart has found the desired relief. There have 
I realized the glory of Jehovah ; I have there heard of 
his justice, his mercy, and all his righteous attributes — 
and while I have trembled at his presence, I have fled to 
my dear dying Redeemer, and he has spoken peace to my 
souL There also have I frequently commemorated my 
Saviour's sufferings and death, and thus enjoyed some of 
the sweetest moments my Father ever granted his unwor- 
thy child. Exactly suited to my frame of mind have I 
there often found the preached word : if doubts and fears 
possessed my heart, it spoke comfort to my troubled soul. 
O may I soon again appear in those sacred courts — again 
go up to the house of God with those who keep holy day. 

TO Miss O. F. p. OF C. 

Dorchester, Septemher, 1819. ■ 
1 received your letter with the greatest pleasure on the 
6th of August, and my first intention was to answer it im- 
mediately, in order to make amends for my former long 
delay ; but numerous avocations have obhged me to de- 
chne what would have afforded me great delight. I have 
been attending a school, and my time has been devoted 
to various studies. This is indeed a pleasing employment ; 
but neither this nor any other earthly pursuit ought to 



1819.] rHARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 161 

come in competition with our first, our great concern — a 
preparation for eternity. When we reflect seriously on 
this important subject — when w^e remember that we have 
an immortal soul, which will exist beyond the reach of 
time and its attendant cares and toils, O how trifling all 
other things appear. 

I have been confined at home by sickness for nearly 
four weeks ; but my health, I hope, is now returning. For 
four Sabbaths I have been deprived of the precious privi- 
lege of going to the house of God — a privilege which I 
long once more to enjoy, but w^hich I prized too little 
w4]ile indulged with it. 

My dear O., I should be pleased to write an hour long- 
er, but bodily weakness prevents. Life is uncertain, and 
perhaps I am addressing you for the last time ; perhaps 
w^e shall never meet again this side of eternity. How 
necessary, then, is it that we should watch and pray, and 
be in readiness for our exit. May our constant and prac- 
tical resolution be, like Joshua's — Whatever others do, as 
for us we will serve the Lord. s. h. c. 

26. — I am permitted to behold another Sabbath. For 
what purpose do I live ? Why are my days prolonged ? 
I hope my Father has something yet for me to do, though 
I seem to hve a cumberer of the ground. Lord, wilt thou 
listen to this, my constant petition — Make me useful. 

27. — Returned again to school. 

Oct, 14. — Have commenced attendins; a sino-ino; school. 
Surrounded by the gay and thoughtless, how critical is. my 
16* 



162 



HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [Dec. 



situation. Grant, O God, that I may not dishonor thy 
holy name and my profession. 

Returned home last evening. O how could one so 
much attached to home as myself, ever consent to leave 
it ? I think nothing but a clear conviction of duty would 
ever induce me to forsake this dearly-beloved spot, where 
my youthful years have rolled pleasantly away, and 
where are the dearest and best of ])arents. 

30. — Leave school to-day, and part with some whom 
perhaps 1 shall never see again ; but O may we meet in 
a better world. 

TO MISS L. S. OF q,. 

Dorchester, December 1, 1819. 
I am ashamed, my dear Lucy, of having thus long neg- 
lected your letter. Had I followed my inclination, it 
would long since have received the attention it merited. 
I cannot tell you how acceptable it was. For three weeks 
I had been confined at home by sickness, and on the eve 
of the third Sabbath your truly valuable letter was hand- 
ed me, and was as a cordial to my languid frame. For 
five Sabbaths I was not permitted to enter the sacred 
courts. I reflected much on the many precious hours 1 
had spent there, where I had so often heard the glad news 
of salvation and felt that comfort which the world could 
neither give nor take away. But trying as it was to be 
deprived of the privilege, I felt the greatest consolation in 
thinking that it was my heavenly Father's will. Cannot 
this reflection reconcile us to the severest trials ? Shall 
we repine at what our Father gives, when we have every 



1819.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 163 

^ reason to believe that it is indispensably necessary for us ? 
O no — it is a kind, beneficent Being who lias marked out 
our path. If we look back and review the way we have 
trod, we shall not find a single affliction which has not in 
some W'ay proved beneficial. O what wisdom is displayed 
in all the w^ays of Providence. Not the minutest circum- 
stance occurs without his special command. Every little 
event, as w^ell as thousands of worlds, is under his control. 
He will bring light out of darkness ; and if earthly com- 
forts fail, still, if he is our portion, we are by no means 
destitute. I admire the language of the prophet Ha- 
bakkuk — ^^ Although the fig-tree shall not blossom, neither 
shall fruit be in the vines ; the labor of the olive shall fail, 
and the fields shall yield no meat ; the flock shall be cut 
off from the fold, and there shall be no herd in the stalls : 
yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will joy in the God of my 
salvation." Could we at all times be in this frame of 
mind — have our affections above all mere earthly things, 
and derive our comfort only from God — how much hap- 
pier we should be. We should not then meet with the 
.disappointments w^e now^ do ; worldly cares and anxieties 
would not distress our hearts. The world might frown, 
and withdraw from us all its comforts ; but our chosen por- 
tion would still remain untouched. 

It is essential that w^e constantly have our conversation 
in heaven. How^ inconsistent, my dear friend, that we 
should enter into the most solemn engagements, profess- 
ing to separate ourselves from the world, and then live a 
life so conformable to it — so contrary to the precepts and 
example of our divine Master. What w^ounds religion 



164 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIA^7. [Bcd 

more than the irregular walk of its professors ? O may 
we both be preserved from injuring the cause which it is 
our duty to honor. If our own salvation should be our 
first request of God^ should not our second be the salva- 
tion of others ? 

I hope, my dear Lucy, that you are enjoying the light 
of Immanuel's countenance, and progressing daily Zion- 
ward. Shall we presume to loiter in such a journey, when 
everything connected with our interest calls us forward 
with renewed alacrity ? But, alas ! I am acting thus un- 
becomingly. During the past summer, my time and 
attention have been much occupied with earthly things. 
Study, as is often the case, drew my attention from higher 
concerns, and I have been cold and stupid with regard to 
reliction. O for more eno-ao"edness in the best of causes 
— a heart entirely devoted to God, rising above all earthly 
things, and seeking its chief delight in heaven. 

My dear sister, I know I do not merit your letters, but 
they have always afforded me so much pleasure that I 
venture to ask for a continuance of them. May these 
writings be attended with blessed effects. At the throne 
of grace remember your unworthy and obliged s. 

1 1 . — O that it w^ere my constant, I had almost said my 
only delight, to meditate on God and on eternal things. 
I am astonished that I can remain so stupid and careless 
concerning that which is more to me than life or health, 
or all my friends. How is it possible I can live and not 
live to God ; that I can possess powers and faculties, and 
not devote them to him ? My Maker, my Preserver, my 



18J9.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 165 

kind Benefactor, it was thou that made and fashioned this 
clayey tabernacle, and breathed into it the breath of life. 
It is thou that hast kindly preserved my life from threat- 
ening ills and from the shafts of death. It is thou that 
hast ever kindly bestowed u])on me food and raiment, and 
crowned my days with peace and prosperity. O w^hat 
do I not owe to thee ? Accept this heart, and make me 
entirely thine. Shall I call thee — the supreme Governor 
of the universe — the God of heaven — my Father ? If 
it is not presumption how could I delight to dwell upon 
the endearing appellation. I pity the miserable VvTCtch 
whose deluded fancy leads him so far astray as to believe 
that there is no God, I pity, too, that unhappy creature 
who is so depraved as to deny the truth of the word of 
God. O w^here — ^where, in an hour of distress and afflic- 
tion, can they find relief ? What can thrill their hearts 
with solid joy? If religion is vain, if the Bible is false, 
if there is no God, O I cannot relinquish the comfort de- 
rived from a behef in them. If the soul is not immortal, 
still I w^ould w^ish to beheve that it is. But is it possible 
that imagination can make me believe and feel what I 
have behoved and felt without any foundation, any divine 
interposition ? No, I cannot think it. 

26. — Attended public w^orship to-day, and sat down to 
the table of the Lord, but I fear with a heart of which 
the world had possession. O why this attachment to the 
world ? Truly my Saviour is the chief among ten thou- 
sand and altogether lovely ; he demands, he deserves, my 
heart, my life, my all. O may they all be fervently en- 
gaged in advancing his kingdom in the world. 



166 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [Jan. 

31. — I am now brought to the closing scenes of another 
year, and with deep regret I must bid them all adieu. O 
how have I spent the past year ? Great indeed has been 
the goodness of God towards me ; in unexpected ways 
he has appeared and provided for me. But O how few 
returns have I made. Alas ! I have lived unworthy of 
all his kind gifts. I have been astray ; I have forsaken 
the God of heaven, and perhaps dishonored his holy name 
before his enemies. '^ Show pity, Lord, O Lord, forgive" 
my manifold transgressions. Shouldst thou mark iniquity, 
I could not stand ; I must plead guilty at the bar of a 
righteous Judge. But in the name of my ever-blessed 
Mediator I hope to be forgiven, and through his merits to 
be accepted. The wheels of time have now borne away 
twelve fleeting months. Once more has the earth per- 
formed her revolution around that immense orb which 
daily illumines its surface, and the changing seasons it has 
produced are past ; and soon must the day of life also be 
over. 

Jan, 1, 1820. — In health and comfort I behold the 
commencement of another year. May I begin it with 
usefulness, and end it in happy reflection on time well 
spent, and work well done. 

4. — Have just laid aside the holy Scriptures, which, 
according to my usual custom, I have begun to read 
through in course with the new year. Enlighten my 
understanding, O my God, that I may be enabled to 
understand what I am permitted to read. Without the 
teachings of thy Holy Spirit, I shall read in vain. 

9.— Another holy morning beams upon ma and blesses 



1820.1 JDIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 167 

my waiting eyes. Reflecting on the precious privileges" 
which are enjoyed in this gospel land, my tlioughts are 
involuntarily transported to those who never pronounced 
the name of Jesus, or welcomed a Sabbath. 

My health bids me remain away from the house of 
God. But O, may it not be a misspent Sabbath. A 
severe headache attends me ; yet shall the language of 
my heart be — 

^^ In every joy that crowns my days, 

In every pain I bear, 
My heart shall find delight in praise, 

Or seek relief in prayer." 

My Father sees fit to lay upon me his chastening rod. O 
may it do me good. I know he does it for wise purposes, 
and may I never complain. 

16. — Attended meeting and heard the word faithfully 
preached. 

O that I could drive from my mind this criminal anxie- 
ty, which intrudes into my lonely hours and destroys my 
peace. Where can I go for rehef but to God ? This I 
do daily. O, my Father, it is my earnest prayer that 
thou wouldst make me reconciled to [thy will ; then I 
shall be happy. 

30. — As the weather will detain me from public wor- 
ship this morning, may I enjoy the presence of God here. 
I have entered into covenant with him, and have bound 
myself by solemn engagements to be his, and to love and 
serve him all my days. Saints and angels heard the 
vows, which were undoubtedly registered in the eternal 
world. But have I lived in conformity to my own pro- 
posals and promises ? Has my life been in unison with 



168 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [Fsh, 

my engagements ? In a feiv instances^ only, has frail na- 
ture led me astray ? has the bias of my inclination only a 
few limes drawn me from the path of rectitude ? or have 
I deviated only through ignorance, and has all been sin- 
cerely confessed and repented of before a heart-searching 
God, and followed by constant and successful endeavors 
to do better for the future ? Alas ! I cannot thus clear 
myself. No — daily and hourly have I gone astray ; I 
have followed the dictates of my own wicked heart ; and 
should Jehovah mark iniquity, where — where should I 
stand ? O my God, I confess I have sinned against thee 
times and ways without number, and deserve only thy 
wrath ; but thou art merciful and good — thou hast pro- 
vided a ransom for the guilty, even for me ; and though 
my sins are thus aggravated, yet wilt thou for His sake 
who has suffered and died to redeem a guilty world, O 
wilt thou forgive and accept the most unworthy of thy 
creatures, and to thee shall redound all the glory. 

Feb, 5. — Once more I retire to my beloved retreat, 
and resume my consohng pen ; but, alas ! not so dear, not 
so frequented is this spot as it once was ; not so cordially 
embraced the hours that afford me an opportunity of re- 
tiring from everything but my God. Ah, the conscious- 
ness of this strikes me with sorrow. Guilt drives me 
from the presence of my Maker, and makes me dread to 
be entirely alone with him whom I am conscious of hav- 
ing offended. O that I could make one successful strug- 
gle, which would extricate me from the snares and temp- 
tations into which I have fallen, and make me blind to all 
the gay attractions of vanity. I am sensible of a declen- 



18^0.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 169 

sion of religion in my heart. My affections, which were 
once fastened on my Redeemer, have since been engross- 
ed by the world. Where conversation was once religious, 
it is now worldly ; and hours once spent in prayer, have 
since been spent in useless pursuits. I have met with no 
rebuke from christians, but my own heart condemns me. 
O for the solid comforts enjoyed by an upright, consistent 
believer. My heart, O heavenly Parent, more than I 
can express, is known to thee. All its errors lie exposed 
to thy view, and O show me all those of which I am not 
yet convinced. If thou hast left me, as thou didst one 
of old, to discover to me all that is. in my heart, wilt thou 
now thoroughly cleanse me, and may this declension thus 
prove of the greatest benefit. May I come forth as gold 
well refined, and devote all my remaining days exclusively 
to thee. 

6. — Once more the sun declines beyond the horizon, 
and its last rays vanish from my sight. Farewell, bright 
orb ; thy work is done ; thou hast shone upon the evil 
and the good here, and now thou art gone to enlighten 
other regions of the earth ; and some, perhaps, at the mo- 
ment while I write, are kneeling down and paying homage 
to thee. God has placed me in a gospel land ; he has gra- 
ciously smiled upon me, and given me more blessings 
than it is in my power to enumerate. O that I could 
dispense some of that which I have received to the un- 
enlightened of my fellow creatures. One hand has made 
us all. A similarity prevails in the formation and nature 
of those whom wide oceans and immense continents sepa- 
rate. All are enlivened by the same glorious sun, all be- 
17 



170 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [Feb. 

hold the same waning moon, and we are all indeed mem- 
bers of one family. But what a difference does the 
gospel make ! Some, on America's favored shores, hear 
. from w^eek to week the glad news of salvation ; others, in 
Asia's distant chme, never heard of a gospel, speaking 
good news to the soul — never heard a Saviour's glorious 
tiame, and through this unhappy ignorance of the soul's 
life and glory have recourse to perishable gods whom 
they blindly adore. But the time is hastening when the 
knowledge of the Lord shall cover the earth, and brother 
will not say to brother, Know ye the Lord ; and none 
shall grope in darkness, for it shall be noonday. 

15. — The remains of Miss B. R. are this afternoon to 
be deposited beneath the cold clods. In early life she is 
called hence — she who but a short time since was looking 
forward to pleasures and prosperity for many years to 
come. But the ''staunch murderer" spares her not ; he 
mows down the tender plant ; and that vvhich was so 
lovely and pleasing — which delighted her parents' hearts 
and excited admiration in those of her friends — is con- 
signed to the tomb. Such is the termination of earthly 
hopes, such their instability. 

And must I, too, come to this ? Shall these eyes be 
closed through a long — long night ? these ears be deaf to 
the kind voices of those I love ? these lips cease to ad- 
dress a friend or the throne of grace ? and this blood, 
which now flows freely in a thousand channels, become 
stagnant ? O, when life thus becomes extinct — when this 
earthly tabernacle shall be dropped — may my Redeemer 
receive the immortal principle within — this something that 
now thinks and prompts to action. 



1820.] JDIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 171 

^[ Hide me, O my Saviour, hide, 
Till tlie slorm of life is past; 
Safe into ll)e liaven guide ; 
O receive my soul at last." 

27. Sahhath, — My Monitor warns me to-day to be 
patient. How seasonable is this ; for my long absence 
from the house of God, and the gloomy mipleasant w^ea- 
ther we have had, have strongly tended to produce dis- 
content. When, O my Father, shall I again appear in 
thy sacred courts ? 

March 9. — 1 am laboring under dreadful apprehensions. 
O where shall I find relief? Can anything ease this aching 
heart — is there any healing balm ? What will banish 
these anxieties from my mind ? Yet I know^ if God but 
speak the word, all will be serene and tranquil. May I 
then trust in him, and with readiness submit. 

10. — I am constantly penning the needless distresses, 
my mind. But should I say needless, when I knov/ not 
their design nor what may be their effect ? Yet I greatly 
fear I bring a reproach upon religion. O God, wilt thou 
keep me from this. 

11.— How beautiful the scenery around. The trees 
are splendidly ornamented with a thousand icy spangles, 
all olisteninof in the brio;ht sunbeams. What in art can 
equal that which nature now presents ? O how far must 
nature's God exceed our highest conceptions. 

24. — Once more I arise from refreshing sleep. While 
thousands, burdened with affliction and loaded with cares 
and sorrows, in vain have closed their eyes, and sought in 
vain to cast their cares away and find relief in sleep ; 



172 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [March^ 

while thousands, too, racked with torturing pains, have 
rolled from side to side and found no rest — I, in tlie pos- 
session of perfect health and quietude, have laid down 
and slept, and awoke in safety. Thanks to my God for 
all his gifts. They call for renewed exertions for him, 
and may these exertions be made with alacrity and pur- 
sued with perseverance. 

TO MISS A. C, RESIDENT IN D. 

Dorchester, March 29, 1820. 

It is with mingled emotions that I take my pen to ad- 
dress my much esteemed Miss C. The idea of com- 
mencing a correspondence with her, and of being favored 
with her friendship and advice, fills my mind with plea- 
sure. But the consciousness of my inability of communi- 
cating anything that will be pleasing or edifying to her, 
or that will equal the claim.s of her letters, strongly induces 
me to relinquish the attempt to write. If I may be in- 
dulged with your acquaintance and friendship, there will 
be many things which you must overlook and forgive, as 
well in the conduct of your friend as in her letters ; and 
your well known candor assures me that you will do this. 

I have giv^en up the plan of taking a school at the east- 
ward this summer, and shall probably go to reside with 
you. There may we spend many happy hours together, 
and reap from them eternal benefit. Yet life is uncertain. 
Before to-morrow's setting sun our eyes may be closed on 
all terrestrial things, and eternity be unfolded to our 
view. O, should either of us meet a frowning Judge, 
and after the time and opportunity afforded us for repent- 



1820.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE, 173 

anc8 hear the dreadful sound, Depart — with what bitter 
remorse and sighs should we sink to endless ruin. But I 
hope we shall both be prepared to reign with our Re- 
deemer in yonder happy mansions. I write in haste, and 
remain your unworthy friend. s. H. c. 

April 11, — 

'^ More gaily smiles the blooming Springy 
Now wintry winds are o'er." 

The winter is past and gone, and the time of the singing 
of birds is come. Everything calls on me for renewed 
thanks, and lays me under increased obligations to my 
Maker. What shall I render unto him ? I hear him say 
— '^Give me thy heart." But, O God, unless thou change 
my sinful nature, my heart can never be truly devoted to 
thee. 

22. — I expect soon to leave this much-loved spot, and 
take up my residence for six months a few miles distant. 
Why this door is opened, I know not, but hope my hea- 
venly Father has something for me to do there. May I 
help to build the w^alls of Zion wdierever I am. 

27. — Never, while life continues — ^wdiile this feeble 
tongue can speak my Saviour's praise — nor in eternity it- 
self, where I may strike a golden lyre and sing immortal 
strains — can I sufficiently thank my God for religious im- 
pressions in early life, ere the morning of childhood 
had flown a,w^ay, and snares and temptations and worldly 
cares had beset my path. Was my heart entirely devoid 
of the grace of God, methinks I should find little time or 

incHnation, at this period of life, to serve my Maker. 
]7# 



174 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [June, 

should doubtless be delaying the important work of salva- 
tion to middle life, or old age, or till sickness came upon 
me, and then perhaps my soul would have been ruined. 
Blessed and forever praised be God for what he has done 
for me. 

May 2. — Gloomy thoughts possess my mind, v^^hen I 
consider that I am shortly to leave this endeared spot. 
Where, O where shall I find friends like my parents, or a 
place so pleasant as my beloved home ? But if God is 
with me, this will be sufficient. Yes, he can be more 
than a father or a mother ; his presence can make any 
situation pleasant and agreeable. 

June 1. — Time flies rapidly away, and summer has 
again returned. It is now four weeks since I left a happy 
home ; but here I am well contented. My employment 
is peculiarly favorable to serious contemplation. 

TO MRS. E. C. OF R., MAINE. 

Dorchester^ June, 1820. 
My DEAR Friend — Having the opportunity of a con- 
venient conveyance, I with pleasure address you. I re- 
joiced to hear that you had arrived at your intended home 
in safety, and w^ere w^ell contented. But it is with deep 
regret that I consider I shall see you here no more. My 
feelings, wiien I last parted with you, I cannot describe. 
The reflection that I was taking leave of a friend — of one 
with whom I had spent many pleasant hours, and who 
perhaps I should never more meet this side of eternity — 
excited the heartfelt sigh and rising tear. I feel myself 
indebted to you for many favors, and hope 1 may have an 



1820.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 175 

opportunity of returning them. Perhaps we shall yet 
spend many happy hours together on earth ; but if we do 
not, the time is fast approaching when we shall meet at 
the awful tribunal of heaven, wiiere 1 trust we shall both 
be acquitted and recei\^d into the joy of our Lord. What 
will everything else avail us, if at last we come short of 
this ? What if health be our constant ccmpanion, and the 
rising sun of prosperity shine on all cur undertakings, and 
w^e have more than heart can wish ; there is a m.essenger 
on the way — a deadly messenger this night may knock at 
our doors, command our souls, and convey them to an 
unseen world. Then whose shall all these earthly things 
be, and what shall we do if our peace is not made wdth 
God ? But O, my friend, I hope that after all these 
changing scenes have come and gone, and the last m.ortal 
conflict is over, it will be our happy lot to be admitted to 
a v/orld where sorrovv^ and sighing are unknown — w^here 
the wicked cease from troubling, the weary are at rest, 
and where Jesus reigns forever and ever. 

I trust, ere this, you have a hope grounded on a gcod 
foundation — that you are indeed born of God. Then 
you possess greater riches than all this world can bestoW' ; 
yours is the pearl of great price, w^ith which nothing is 
of equal value, and which shall not be taken from you. 
W^hen time shall be no more, you wdll be conveyed to 
blessed mansions prepared by Jesus in his Father's king- 
dom, there with thousands of angels and happy spirits to 
sing the high praises of Iramanuel. Happy, inconceiva- 
bly happy place ! Who has purchased all this felicity 
for us ? Who has fulfilled the law^ of God, and rendered 



176 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. ['^Ug. 

him just in saving sinners by making atonement for those 
who beheve ? Even Jesus, our Mediator — Jesus, our 
great High Priest, who has passed into the heavens, and 
who is touched Vv ith the feehngs of our infirmities, having 
been tempted in all respects like as we are — Jesus, our 
elder Brother, who now sits at the right hand of his Fa- 
ther and our Father, and makes intercession for us. 
Wonderful love he has displayed in his plan of redemp- 
tion and salvation for guilty sinners. High and ceaseless 
praises are his due. s. 

July 23. — Have attended meeting to-day, been to the 
table of the Lord, and enjoyed the season. I long, ar- 
dently long, to rise above all sublunary things. There is 
great need of watchfuluess. May I ever observe the true 
medium ; and vvhile on the one hand I avoid hght and tri- 
fling -conversation and behavior, may I on the other shun 
austerity and coldness. Here are many with whom 1 have 
no wish ever to cultivate an acquaintance, unless I might 
be beneficial to them ; but there are a few with whom an 
acquaintance is pleasant, and whose company I can profi- 
tably enjoy. I have found a few christians, and a few 
are anxiously inquiring what they shall do to be saved. 
O may their number be increased. 

Aug. 2. — This frame is debilitated throughout. To 
how many disorders is this frail body subject, and how do 

^' Fierce diseases wait around 
To hurry mortals home." 

Shall I, then, place dependence upon anything here, 
when my probationary state is so short, and the lamp of 



1820.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 177 

life may be so easily and speedily extinguished ? O God, 
forbid. Lift my thoughts and affections above this fleet- 
ing, transitory world. 

*• Tliere's nothing here deserves my joys, 
There's nothing like my God." 

5. — Returned home this morning, unable to pursue my 
business any longer. Where God is, there must be joy ; 
and if in sickness I enjoy his presence, why may not 
sickness be made pleasant ? 

6. — Blessed Sabbath, once more dost thou return and 
afford a rest to the weary christian. God has so ordered 
it that I should pass this day at home. 1 have not a w'ish 
to alter one circumstance as it respects myself. Might I 
rise and grasp at blooming health, I v^ould not if against 
his will. I am at God's disposal ; with confidence I can 
trust in his goodness, even though he should slay me. 
Am I not thine, O my Father ? And if in thy hands, I 
am safe forever. 

11. — I am still at home, deprived indeed of health, but 
surrounded by innumerable earthly comforts. Surely 
God afflicts his people in mercy to their never-dying 
souls. Though we frequently dictate, and often interpose 
our feeble reason, and urge the expediency of lessening 
this and that affliction, yet we are often convinced, even 
in this world, of our great mistake ; and if not here, we 
shall be hereafter. How^ apt are we to wish that events 
w^ould terminate differently, and be as we would imagine 
favorable to us ; or cast an envious eye at others, and ea- 
gerly endeavor to catch at what we fancy aftords them so 
much comfort. But could we thus take every earthly com'* 



178 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [^ug. 

fort we wish, seize every imagined pleasure j'^and become 
possessors of all oar hearts could desire, there would still 
be an aching void. Many of us know and realize this ; 
yet such is our feeble nature that we still grovel below, 
and seek our happiness among earthly objects. It is only 
by assiduous and vigilant endeavors of our own, accom- 
panied by the blessing of God, that we can be raised 
from cur mean pursuits. Our minds are far too noble to 
be placed exclusively on earthly objects. Our superiority 
should never be thus degraded. Naturally proud and 
assuming, why do we not aspire to the greatest possible 
attainments ? Such is our strange inconsistency^such 
our fallen and depraved state. 

18. — My heart is wounded, and where shall I seek 
relief? In what vehicle will flow the healing balm to 
ease my laboring bosom 't Jesus was a man of sorrows, 
he was acquainted with grief, and he can assuage a storm 
of woe ; he can suppress the rising sighs and command 
gentle peace to bless my drear abode. But why do I 
mourn ? Blessings innumerable still attend me. But 
^^ were the wealth of India mine, with Peru's golden store," 
still, without a God — without a refuge from the storm and 
a covert from the wind— I am a wretch undone. O my 
God, whatever thou deniest me here, make me thine and 
I am content. The dearest earthly joy I here possess, if 
required, I think I can resign, and give my heart to thee. 

20. — I have to-day been looking over some of my first 
waitings. The early lispings of religious experience, I trust 
they were the language of my heart, and that I have never 
exaggerated my real feelings. When forgetful of almost 



1820.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 179 

every other blessing, I often find ray heart drawn out in 
gratitude, more than I can express, for what I count the 
greatest blessing of life — that of being called early to 
devote myself to God. But it is with pain that I review 
my life since then. O how guilty have I been ! '^ Show 
pity, Lord — O Lord, forgive." 

20. — Was permitted to attend public worship this 
morning. Heard a very interesting discourse. The 
preacher appeared to lead us from world to world, from 
system to system, and then to their Creator. O, I could 
sit from morn till night and listen to a description of the 
w^onderful works of God in the systems of worlds which 
revolve far beyond our sight — of the gravitation and at- 
traction which keep them all in order ; and likewise of 
his surprising works on this earth — the formation of the 
human frame, and the growth and nature of vegetation. 
How dehghtful to hear this subject treated of by one 
whose aim is the glory of God. 

TO MISS H. c. or s. 

Dorchester^ Se'ptemher 1, 1820. 

Dear Cousin — With pleasure I embrace the first op- 
portunity to write you. I reached home on Saturday, 
much pleased with my visit at S. The next morning I 
was taken sick. 

I have been perusing your last letter^ and conclude that 
your religious views and sentiments are altered since you 
wrote. But, my dear friend, I hope you will not imbibe 
a belief in Universal Salvation without examining thor- 
oughly this and the contrary belief; without studying with 



180 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [Sept. 

an unprejudiced mind the Holy Scriptures, which are our 
only guide. If this does appear most rational to you — 
which perhaps is in consequence of its being most pleas- 
ing — you know there are thousands, of excellent abilities, 
who have studied the Scriptures faithfully, with prayerful 
attention, and believe otherwise. Why may not these 
be right ? It does not appear to me consistent with the 
character of a just and holy God to save all mankind in 
their sins. I feel that I have a heart that is prone to 
evil. I am convinced that I have sinned against him who 
abhors sin, and that I deserve the eternal wrath of God. 
But he has provided a ransom ; Jesus has made an atone- 
ment for sin, and we are told that whosoever believeth on 
him shall not perish, but have everlasting life. He is 
now ofFerino; it to us, and invitino; us to become heirs of 
it ; but if we persist in sin, despise his calls till the day of 
grace is closed and our opportunities past, why should 
we not eat of the fruit of our own doings ? What is there 
in Scripture which gives us reason to think that we shall 
not ? We there read — '^ He that overcometh shall in- 
herit all things, and 1 will be his God, and he shall be my 
son. But the fearful and unbelieving, and the abomina- 
ble, and murderers, and whoremongers, and idolators, and 
all liars, shall have their part in the lake which burnetii 
with fire and brimstone.'' Why should Jehovah bear so 
much with us, provide a way for us to be saved, and with 
promisings and threatenings show that the righteous shall 
be separated from the wicked as a shepherd divideth the 
sheep from the goats, and then, finally, notwithstanding 
all our impenitency and unbelief, receive all into his king- 



1820.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDEKCiS. 181 

dom to reign forever ? My friend, can you reconcile this-? 
Can you think God unjust for extending punishment to 
crimes, as -far as he has threatened that he will ? I have 
spoken plainly on these subjects, and I hope that you will 
do the same ; and should we differ in our religious belief, 
I trust our friendship for each other will not be lessened. 
We must be charitable, for we know that one of us must 
be in an error. There is not a person on earth that I 
should wish banished forever from the presence of God* 
No, my heart recoils at the thought. If I believed that 
all w^ould be saved, I think I should not dare to depend 
entirely on this for my soul's salvation. If this belief 
should be true, without embracing it I am safe ; and if it 
is our heavenly Father's will to save the whole w^orld, I 
should indeed rejoice. I trust you will not rest satisfied 
in this belief until you find sufficient ground in the Holy 
Scriptures to maintain it ; for should you be wrong, what 
must be the consequence ? I remain your affectionate 
friend. s. h, c. 

3. — This is a Communion Sabbath. Miss P. C, an 
intimate friend of mine, is to be admitted to our church ; 
but such is the state of my health that I cannot repair 
to the sacred place. This is the day of rest. All around 
is hushed in silence^ save the humming of little insects, 
which seem to show forth their Maker's praise. I am 
alone ; and yet not alone, since I am surrounded on every 
side by an omnipresent Deity. O how wonderful is God 
— how unsearchable are his ways ! 
18 



182 



HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [Sept 



TO MRS. E. H. OF D. 

Dorchester, September, 1820. 
It is with great pleasure that I take my pen for the pur- 
pose of again addressing you. My heavenly Father has 
seen fit to lay his chastening hand upon me and visit me 
with sickness. Thus is our path attended with various 
afflictions ; thorns and briars often obstruct the way. But 
may we walk, without deviation, in our Saviour's footsteps, 
and all these trials will then help us on our journey. 
They are very needful ; I feel that they are so to me. I 
constantly need something to raise my affections above 
this fleeting world, and increase my zeal and vigilance in 
the Redeemer's cause. Our journey here is short. The 
departure of near and dear friends to an eternal world, and 
the loss of health, are loud calls to us to be in readiricss, 
lest, like the foolish virgins who had no oil in their lamps, 
we should be surprised, and, after all our hopes, find the 
door of heaven shut against us. It is a very solemn thing 
to die and enter an untried state — an unseen world. This 
event cannot be far distant. Are not the feet of those 
who have carried out our neighbors, waiting to carry us 
out also ? Then will eternity, with all its solemn reali- 
ties, open to our view ; then, with immortal eyes, shall 
we behold Omnipotence — the God who sways his sceptre 
over kings and kingdoms, and reigns the sovereign of 
worlds. Shall we not shrink before his awful throne ? 
But I trust our faith and hopes are built on a sure foun- 
dation, even Christ our Lord ; and notwithstanding our so 
often having yielded to the wiles of Satan and the delu- 
sions of a vain world, he will then receive us to glory. 



1820.] niARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 183 

Then shall we meet a smihng Judge, and be welcomed to 
our Father's kingdom. O with what transports shall we 
enter the glorious city, as we meet here a friend who will 
bid us welcome, and there a long-lost and lamented rela- 
tive. As we proceed, how will the music of the heavenly 
host, the sweet melody of saints and angels, assail and 
charm our listening ears. All hearts are there cemented 
in one indissoluble union, and all join in one full chorus — 
one loud hallelujah — to the adorable Prince ImmanueL 
With what rapture shall we, too, join the glorious concert. 
There pride and envy die, and 

. ^^ No vain discourse shall fill our tongue, 
Nor trifles vex our ear." 

This heaven is indeed worthy a short life of affliction — a 
few severe conflicts. And in view of all this, where are 
we ? Are we grovelling in the dust, cleaving to the 
world, and laboring for the meat that perisheth ? Is it 
possible, when such joys are proffered — when so much 
demands our zeal and unwearied perseverance ? O may 
we not sleep, as do others, for the hour is at hand when 
we shall be done with time, and all to come will be vast, 
unbounded eternity. I remain yours, affectionately. 

S. H. C, 

TO Miss M. W. OF D. 

My dear Friend — Shall I intrude upon your grief^ 
by addressing you at this trying moment ? It is my wish to 
convey a gleam of consolation to your bereaved heart, and 
to offer the sympathetk tear ; for I am deeply sensible 
that the SQene3 through which you have been called to 



184 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [Sept 

pass are afflictive indeed. You have stood by the dying 
bed of a fond parent, and seen him yield his breath to the 
hand of him who gave it. He has bid you a long adieu. 
A saint is gone, and the church has lost a valuable mem- 
ber. When I consider that his seat in that sacred house 
is vacated, and that at meetings of prayer he will no more 
be seen, and his voice never again rise in devout suppli- 
cation, I weep ; but when I turn my eyes to his bereaved 
family — the partner of his life and his tender children — 
my heart feels a double anguish. My dear M., I have 
thought much of you ; I know this stroke must be severe, 
and much do 1 wish to alleviate your sorrow and pour into 
your wounded heart the healing balm. You have my 
tenderest sympathy. When you realized more than ever 
the value of such a parent, sickness came, and death con- 
veyed him away. In the midst of life, he has departed. 
But shall we complain ? Shall his nearest relatives com- 
plain ? The hand of God is in this. He is a God of in- 
finite compassion ; he does not willingly afflict, nor grieve 
the children of men. For wise reasons he has done this. 
Your father is undoubtedly at rest in heaven, where no 
sighing nor sorrow shall ever come, and where he is unit- 
ing with the heavenly host in singing praises to ImmanueU 
There does he enjoy happiness indescribable, and there, 
when this short hfe is past, if prepared, shall you meet 
him again. May that rehgion which supported him in 
his dying moments, and carried him so calmly through the 
dark valley, be yours and comfort you under yoiu* loss. 
This, and this alone, yields permanent bliss. I hope, my 
friend, you are now enjoying all the peace it affords, and 



1820.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 185 

that when the hour of your dissolution arrives, you will 
fall sweetly asleep in Jesus, and reign with him forever. 

Yours. s. H. c. 



TO MISS E. W. OF C, VT. 

Dorchester, October 8, 1820. 
My dear Cousin, — Many long months have elapsed 
since 1 heard from you, and many more since 1 had the 
pleasure of receiving a letter. I am informed that for 
some time you have been deprived of your health. This 
is the greatest earthly blessing we can enjoy ; but the loss 
of it is often compensated, and more than compensated, 
by rich and lasting spiritual blessings. Do you know, my 
dear friend, what it is to enjoy communion with God — to 
walk in the light of Immanuel's countenance^ and have 
him for the guide and guard of your otherwise gloomy 
hours, and your travels through this w^earisome world? 
If you do, enviable indeed is your situation. The happi- 
ness of the blooming youth who is surrounded with all the 
comforts and pleasures this world can afford, bears no 
comparison with yours. The pearl of great, of immense 
value, is yours ; God is your protecting Father ; Jesus is 
your friendly Advocate and elder Brother ; guardian an- 
gels surround your dwelling, hover over your head, and, 
ward off impending dangers. But life is short — soon 
your journey will be completed. The waters of Jordan 
roll just before you, and Canaan — -happy Canaan — lies 
beyond. Soon will your little bark be conducted over the 
stream, when troubles and sorrows will retreat, and myr- 
iads of angels will welcome you to the New Jerusalem, 
18=^ 



186 HIB13EN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. (jVotfJ 

the voices of millions of saints joining in joyful melddy 
as you receive the welcome plaudit* And this shall be 
your lasting home — this is your Father's house. Here 
Jesus has provided you a mansion, and you shall wear a 
crown of glory. In view of all this, can you regret the 
loss of any, or every earthly enjoyment ? Place your spir- 
itual possessions in the scale wnth health and all mere 
earthly comforts, and O how they preponderate ! These 
are not the mutable comforts of a day, but are sure and 
lasting. Yet perhaps you have not the hope that your sins 
are pardoned and yourself an heir of glory. If you have 
not, I can mention no source of happiness. Your situa- 
tion must be melancholy, and what is there, besides this^ 
that can alleviate it ? I can think of nothing. O, you 
must secure this eternal crown, or sad will be the conse- 
quence. But I still hope that you know the ])leasures of 
true religion. If so, not only a friend and relative do I 
address, but a beloved sister in Christ — one who know^s 
by happy experience the indissoluble union between 
Christ and his followers. Adieu, my dear friend. Will 
you write the first opportunity ? If I am never permitted 
to see your face on earth, O may we meet in mansions 
above the sky. Please present my regards to your pa- 
rents. I remain yours, affectionately. 

s. H. c. 

^ov. 8. — Once more my heavenly Parent has restored 
me to such a measure of health that I am able to follow 
my usual employment ; but may I not also resume my 
former worldly-mindedness. 



1820.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 187 

TO MISS M. W. OF D. 

Long ere this, my dear friend, I had anticipated an 
interview with you ; bat such have been my numerous 
engagements, that it has not been practicable. The 
reception of pleasing intelligence from you induces me 
again to take my pen to congratulate you. Yes, I rejoice 
that you entertain a hope, and are about to give yourself 
up to God in an everlasting covenant, never to be forgot- 
ten. You doubtless view it is a' very solemn thing, in 
the presence of God, his holy angels and saints on earth, 
to give yourself up to be the Lord's. But it is a great, 
an unspeakable privilege. May you enjoy much of the 
presence of your heavenly Father, and go on rejoicing 
in the ways of righ eousness. I rejoice that on the ensu- 
ing Sabbath I shall relinquish the youngest seat in the 
church, which I have for some time occupied, to one 
more worthy and deserving ; and may you soon give 
place to one still younger. Youth is indeed the fittest 
season to begin to serve our Maker. How much joy, 
if your father is permitted to behold you, will he feel to 
see you choosing God for your portion. His loss will 
probably never be effaced from your memory ; but if it 
has been a mean of quickening you in the divine life, 
what cause have you for thankfulness. Afflictions are 
often blessings in disguise. 

My dear friend, were it pleasing to you I should be 
happy to continue a correspondence. I know not your 
opinion of writing ; but if it agrees with mine, you think 
it useful. Letters on religious subjects are generally more 
spiritual than an hour's conversation, and tend more to 
quicken and edify us. s. h. c. 



188 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [Jan, 

Dec, 10. — O how dangerous is prosperity to a heart 
as worldly as mine. If I at first feel grateful to the Giver 
and love him alone for his gifts, my heart soon comes 
down and fixes on the gifts themselves. O for grace to 
rise above the transitory enjoyments of this vain world. 
Quicken me, O my Father. 

17. — I have been readino; in ^^ Doddridp-e's Rise and 
Progress," advice for a soul under spiritual decays, which 
I think exactly suits my case, and every word of the 
prayer I could adopt. 

Such are my engagements that writing and reading are 
much neglected. I lament the loss of opportunities for 
this, more than anything occasioned by my leaving home. 
Am I in the way of my duty ? If I am not, O my Fa- 
ther wilt thou convince me of it. 

31. — I am brought, in health, and in the possession of 
every earthly comfort, to the close of another year. How 
great are my obligations to my heavenly Father ! Great 
favors have been bestowed on me ; gre^t mercies, seen 
and unseen, have I experienced. O God, wilt thou fill 
my heart with gratitude. 

Jan, 1, 1821. — Another year now opens to my view. 
O may I set out anew for heaven, and pursue with in- 
creased alacrity my christian race. O God, may uot this 
year witness so much coldness and declension in religion 
as the last has done. O may I increase in engagedness 
in the best of causes. Surely one with the advantages 
allotted me should be daily growing in grace, and in the 
knowledge of the Lord — daily increasing in every chris- 
tian virtue and progressing towards Zion. 



1821.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 189 

TO MISS A. C. OF D. 

It is with great pleasure, my dear sister, that I retire, 
in coinphance with your request, and resume my pen for 
the purpose of communicating a few hues to you. Close- 
ly bound to my heart are all the children of God ; but 
particularly that one with whom I have often walked to 
the house of God in company, and taken sweet counsel. 
Ours, I think, is an attachment which neither distance or 
time can remove. Should it be our lot to be separated ; 
should the ocean roll between our mortal bodies ; should 
lofty mountains and trackless forests intervene, still affec- 
tion would cast a look beyond, and memory — lasting 
memory — oft recur to the hours which in the society of 
a beloved friend passed so rapidly away. Time does in- 
deed hasten on. Death will soon, very soon, snatch us 
from these earthly abodes. Yes, my friend, this is not 
our home ; it is only a transient dwelling place, or path- 
way to eternity. Here we have no continuing city, no 
sure abiding place. Do we in very deed seek a heavenly 
one, while thousands around us are only laying up treas- 
ures here — while thousands pursue the downward road to 
death ? Have our feet been turned from these shppery 
paths, and are we indeed heirs of eternal blessedness ? 
If we really are, then for us are laid up treasures which 
shall never fade away. Soon shall this short journey be 
completed, and we shall arrive at our Father's house^ 
where are mansions waiting to receive us. 

'' There shall we see, and bear, and know 
All we desired or wished below, 
And every power find sweet employ 
In that eternal world of joy." 



190 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [Feb. 

There shall we bow with angels around the throne, strike 
our golden lyres, and join in the heavenly concert. 
There neither sin nor sorrow shall ever interrupt our joys, 
and no cloud nor veil obscure the bright radiance of our 
Saviour's face. Reciprocal love and harmony shall per- 
vade the whole, while to our God we ascribe endless 
praises and glory forever and ever. And has Jesus pur- 
chased all this felicity for us with his precious blood ? O 
what shall \Me render unto him for all his benefits ? We 
can render nothing but our hearts and lives ; and shall 
they not be his ? Shall the vain things of time and sense 
confine us here and engross our affections ? God forbid ; 
but may we rise continually above this evil world, and 
may our conversation be in heaven, where alone is a last- 
ing treasure. s. h. c. 

Feb. 1. — -I have now retired to the chamber, and sit at 
the window, where in former years I have spent so many 
agreeable and I trust profitable hours. Here the midnight 
moments have solemnly passed me by ; here the rising 
and retiring sun has found me engaged, and here its -meri- 
dian blaze has glistened around me. Once this was 
deemed an almost sacred spot ; daily was it visited. 
Business did not engross my attention ; and I had time to 
devote to the employment of writing ; and the idea that 
this might not always be the case, urged me to improve 
the opportunity. J rejoice that I did, since I have not 
now equal opportunities, and my relish for it has in some 
measure left me. 

The scenery which I have in former days so often 



1821.1 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 191 

looked out upon, once more presents itself. O how de- 
lightful, could I again go back to those younger years. 
It is with dread that I go so swiftly forward in the cur- 
rent of time, to meet uncertain occurrences. Yet could 
I look forward and know what would through the journey 
of life befall me, perhaps I should see an event awaiting 
me from which my heart would recoil, and the idea of 
meeting it might embitter, dreadfully embitter, every 
passing moment ; or I might see an event so pleasing in 
anticipation, that I should eagerly and sinfully wish each 
moment to pass more rapidly on. But Jesus reigns ; and 
this, if rightly considered, would quell each anxious 
thought and rising fear. He has marked out the path for 
me to tread, and he will smooth the way. Only a firm 
confidence in him is requisite for me. O may this ever 
be in full exercise. I need not indeed look forward wdth 
any degree of anxiety, for '^ Jesus will do all things well." 

TO MISS O. F. p. OF C. 

Dorchester^ April, 1821. 
An opportunity occurs, and I take my pen for the pur- 
pose of addressing an absent friend. How pleasing is 
the thought that I am addressing one, with whom in chris- 
tian bonds I am united. Yes, between the hearts 'of 
christians there exists an indissoluble union, a union w^hich 
none but they who feel it know. By this, says the 
Apostle, shall all men know ye are my disciples, if ye 
have love one to another. If we have religion, we 
must have love. It is impossible for christians not to 
love each other ; and you have doubtless found by expe- 



192 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [jJpriU 

rience tliat the nearer we live to God, and the more en- 
gaged we are in his service, the more ardent will our 
love be for his children. But when death has deprived 
us of this earthly clod ; when corruption has put on in- 
corruption, and mortal has put on immortality, then shall 
this grace brighten and increase, while through eternity 
we unite in ascribing glory and honor, dominion and 
power, to Him who is worthy. My dear friend, is your 
soul in prosperity ? Are you advancing in grace and 
making progress Zionward ? I hope the world has not 
engrossed your affections and your heart. It will steal, 
I know, imperceptibly upon us, and draw us by degrees 
from important concerns. It is my own experience that 
leads me to express these fears. Every christian is ex- 
posed. Every christian has an evil heart of unbelief, 
and a busy adversary to contend with. If for a season 
they desist from the warfare, these enemies will gain upon 
them. We must watch, and daily and hourly send up our 
supplications to him who is able to keep us from falling. 
Every action, hov/ever trivial, if performed from a right 
motive, is acceptable to God, and will be doubly repaid. 
O how much we have to encourage us to be up and do- 
ing — to perform our duty and be engaged in the Redeem- 
er's cause. Every worthy consideration urges us forward, 
and why, why are we we so dilatory ? Perhaps I err in 
saying we ; but I feel that this is true with regard to my- 
self. This I know is in consequence of not more fre- 
quently addressing the throne of grace. A desertion of 
the closet will always produce a coldness. Prayer is the 
life of religion. May we never neglect this until we re- 



18*21.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 193 

ceive the end of all our hopes and prayers. Till then I 
remain yours. s. h. c. 

TO MISS H. C.5 RESIDENT IN B. 

Your long expected letter was handed me in February, 
and 1 embrace the first opportunity to answer it. You 
have been called to part with near relatives since I visit- 
ed you, whom I then little thought so near their end. 
Your mother Is released from much pain and suffering ; 
and if she has found rest in the arms of Jesus, it must be 
to her a blest remove. There may we both meet her, 
when our journey here is accomplished. I hope neither 
of us will be deceived with respect to ourselves. If 
we have a soul that will exist forever, it certainly requires 
our attention here. It is all important that we should be 
assured of its eternal salvation before w^e rest, because 
there is no repentance in the grave ; as death leaves us, 
so judgment must find us. My dear friend, if you have 
changed your belief, and rest contented in the soothing 
doctrine of Universal Salvation, I tremble for you. Do 
you not think that there is even a possibility that you 
mistake ? After reading the sacred Scriptures, for myself, 
I should as soon believe there was no heaven, as no hell. 

I do not think our heavenly Father partial, or a re- 
specter of persons. I believe he is good to all, and that 
his tender mercies are over all his works ; that he is infi- 
nitely more so than we in our weakness believe. I feel 
confident that he is ever ready to forgive the sins of the 
truly penitent, and that he stands waiting to pardon and 
receive them to favor. I believe his holy spirit strives 
19 



194 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [^pril, 

with us to bring us to him ; that we, naturally prone to 
evil, fight against him, and that some resist until he 
returns no more, and then their day of grace is closed, 
and all remaining for them must be the displeasure and 
indignation of the Lord. I believe that God is now offer- 
ing pardon and reconciliation through Christ to sinners. 
But if they turn a deaf ear — if his offers are refused — 
the day is coming when he ^^ will laugh at their calamity, 
and mock when their fear cometh." "Then," says the 
Scripture, " shall they call upon me, but I will not an- 
swer; they shall seek me early, but they shall not find 
me. For they hated knowledge, and did not choose the 
fear of the Lord. They would none of my counsel, they 
despised my reproof. Therefore shall they eat of the 
fruit of their own way, and be filled with their own do- 
in o-s." Jesus has died for the sins of the world, and will 
save as many of them as come to him in the way the gos- 
' pel prescribes ; for he says — " Him that cometh to me I 
will in no wise cast out ;" and, in another place- — " Ye 
will not come unto me that ye may have life." 

You speak of the impropriety of calling a state of end- 
less misery a second death ; but the text referred to, 
Rev. xxi. 8, plainly says that such characters shall "have 
their part in the lake which burneth with fire and brim- 
stone, and this is the second death." Eternal misery is 
so expressed in many places in the Bible, particularly in 
Revelations. God says—" The soul that sinneth, it shall 
die." We cannot infer from this that the hfe of the soul 
will become extinct, because Scripture in so many places 
asserts the contrary. 



1821.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 195 

I should think that general observation would convince 
any one that the wicked did not here receive according to 
their deeds. Though they do not have that peace of con- 
science and joy in believing that the righteous enjoy^ yet 
in temporal things they are often prosperous. The holy 
Psalmist thus expresses himself — ^^ For I was envious at 
the foolish when I saw the prosperity of the wicked. 
For there are no bands in their death, but their strength 
is firm. They are not in trouble as other men, neither 
are they plagued like other men. Behold, these are the 
ungodly who prosper in the world ; they increase in 
riches. Verily I have cleansed my heart in vain, and 
washed my hands in innocency. For all the day long 
have I been plagued, and chastised every morning. When 
I thought to know this, it was too painful for me, until 
I went into the sanctuary of God, then understood I their 
end,'' fee. 

You speak of the finally impenitent, and wash me to 
point to the passage in the Bible where they are spoken 
of. I do not recollect mentioning them in particular in 
my last letter ; but I consider those such who never ex- 
ercised sincere repentance towards God and faith in the 
Lord Jesus Christ, and such as the Scripture alludes 
to in all its denunciations against the wicked, as in John — 
'^ He that believeth not the Son, shall not see life, but 
the wrath of God abideth on him ;" in 2 Thes. i. 7, 9 ; 
1 Cor. vi. 9 ; Rom ii. 5, 6, 7, 8, &c. &c. The pas- 
sages quoted from Matthew xxv. I should like to have 
you explain. I am aware that the word them must refer 
to the nations ; but it certainly signifies that the nations 



196 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [^J3n7, 

must be separated, and a part placed on the right hand 
and a part on the left — those on the right hand taken into 
the kingdom of God, and those on the left cast into ever- 
lasting punishment. 

Scripture does indeed afSrm that ^ Mi e that belie veth 
not is condemned already, because he hath not believed 
on the only begotten Son of God ;" and adds — " And 
this is the condemnation, that light is come into the v^orld, 
but men have loved darkness rather than light, because 
their deeds are evil." Their evil deeds, and their hatred 
of the light, prove that they are already under condem- 
nation of eternal death ; if not of eternal death, of v^hat ? 
If we sin against an infinite God, against all his infinite 
perfections, his infinite love and mercy extended to us, 
why do we not deserve an infinite punishment ? We who 
live in a gospel land know our Master's will, and have 
every inducement to do it ; and if we refrain, what pun- 
ishment is too great for us ? 

" A God all mercy is a God unjust." 

The subjects of eternal misery cannot, indeed, be made 
any better by their punishment, because after death it is 
too late to reform ; but we have warnings sufficient to 
deter us from sinning against God. Yet I am not an 
advocate for works to merit salvation ; it is nothing that 
we can do that can purchase the glorious prize ; our re- 
pentance and reformation never can atone for past trans- 
gressions. But repentance and faith in Christ, which will 
produce good works, are essential to salvation. God 
certainly does not willingly afflict or grieve the children 
of men ; but when all his offers of grace and pardon are. 



18S1.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 197 

for years refused and despised, it is certainly just for us 
to experience the well known consequence. Still we 
cannot think that God takes pleasure in inflicting punish- 
ment. He has declared that he takes no pleasure in the 
death of the wicked, but had rather he would turn from 
his sinful way and live. God has proved his great mercy 
and love to sinners in sending his only Son to suffer and 
die for them, and we are under infinite obligations to love 
and serve him. That we may both be united to him, 
and when time shall be no more shine as stars in the 
kingdom of heaven, is the sincere wish of your friend. 

I little thought, on commencing my letter, that it would 
swell to such a length. I should apologize for this if the 
subject was not important. Will you overlook all imper- 
fections, and write the first opportunity. You probably 
recollect our engagement to wTite often. I want very 
much to see you. If you should go through D. I should 
be very happy to have you call. I remain your affec- 
tionate cousin. s. H. c. 

TO A CHRISTIAN SISTER. 

Dear . After a long, a very long silence, I will 

improve a leisure moment to write to you. 1 am sin- 
cerely sorry that thoughts in regard to a non-essential rite 
should have such influence over your mind. Do you 
think its performance ever made a better christian ? I be- 
lieve Jesus does not require it of any of his followers, and 
if it is not requisite, it certainly ought not to occupy those 
thoughts and hours which should be more usefully em- 
ployed. I would not censure you too much, and I trust 
19=* 



198 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [Mal/i 

you will excuse my plainness. I hope the friendship 
which has so long subsisted between us is not now to be 
entirely dissolved. Our views and sentiments have been 
consonant. Yes, we have enjoyed many happy hours 
together, have taken sweet counsel concerning things per- 
taining to the kingdom of God, and often united in our 
addresses to the throne of grace. Gladly would I spend 
such hours again, and I hope you will not build up a par- 
tition wall which will bar all further agreeable intercourse, 
and make those hearts, once so united, strangers and 
unlike. No, I hope we shall yet be united as one in 
Christ, and at last share together that heaven where cir- 
cumcision availeth nothing nor uncircumcision, and where 
no dissenting party shall say — Stand by, for 1 am hoHer 
than thou. Till then, may we remain affectionate and 
sincere friends. s. h. c. 

April 25. — Such is the state of my health that I have 
again returned home ; but I know it is right. I am in the 
hands of a good God. He ever does all things well. 

May 1. — The pleasant season of the year has now 
arrived. But soon will this season close, and another 
and then another come. Time is fast passing by. Soon 
all the future train of earthly events which may affect 
myself will have accomplished their end, and then I must 
quit this mortal shore. O may some guardian angel con- 
duct me safe to ImmanuePs land, and I joyfully greet the 
messenger who bears the tidings that time with me is 
done, and eternity, a happy eternity, about to commence. 
What is there here to tempt my stay ? 



1821.] BIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 199 

TO MISS A. C. OF^D. 

Dorchester, May 6, 1821. 
On this sacred morning I hope my dear A. is with per- 
fect health enjoying the comforts of rehgion, and the hght 
of her Saviour's countenance, and is indulged with sweet 
communion with God. O, my friend, what true happi- 
ness does a christian enjoy, when he can look up and say 
— My Father and my God — and look forward in the glo- 
rious hope of a happy immortality ; and were he always 
to live near to God, this happiness might always be his. 
When death approaches, he would then share in the 
christian's triumph, and, attended by guardian angels, 
waft his way to the celestial paradise, w^here all tears shall 
be wiped from his eyes, and sorrow and sighing shall flee 
away. O, my sister, may this happiness be ours. And 
can we not with uplifted eyes pass unnoticed the ghtter- 
mg toys of earth, and all its boasted honors, laying up our 
treasures in heaven, and having our hearts and conversa- 
tion there ? Yours, affectionately. s. h. c. 

9. — O God, wilt thou give me a cheerful submission to 
whatever may befall me here, and ever give me grace to 
discern and walk in the path of duty, keeping the great 
and final day of account constantly in view. Everything 
around me will then vanish as it were in a moment ; the 
treasure in heaven only will remain. And O, if I really 
possess it there, may I be continually living upon what it 
yields me here. O God, enable me to be vigilant and 
persevering. Everything calls me forward ; and shall I, 
can I tarry ? All w^orth possessing lies before me ; O 



200 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [May, 

may I press forward and grasp the prize ; may I live 
above this passing world, and ever recommend the peace 
and pleasantness of religion. It is of great importance to 
live rehgion. The misconduct of those who are really 
pious wounds exceedingly the blessed cause ; and the ill 
conduct of those who appear in many respects to be chris- 
tians, perhaps more than anything injures religion in the 
eyes of the gazing world. O that exalted piety, godli- 
ness and holiness in a high degree, might prevail and shine 
in their own splendor at least in the conduct of every 
christian. Shall christians be devoid of charity for the 
poor and the heathen — of regard for the Sabbath, the 
Bible, and religious books? Shall they be loose in their 
conversation, and careless in their actions ? What an 
idea must those form of religion who judge of it only by 
what they see in christians, whose failings and apparent 
lightness and carelessness are viewed in such cases in the 
most unfavorable light. 

10. — 19 years x)f my life have rolled away, just like 
a dream of the night, or a tale that is told. Perhaps this 
is the last anniversary of the kind 1 shall ever see. When- 
ever I am called to quit this scene, whether in early life 
or at a more advanced period, may He who is the sover- 
eign Disposer of all things kindly take my soul to rest, 
and all other things are of little consequence. 

19. — I have been for several hours engaged in reading 
the Missionary Herald, containing interesting news from 
missionaries. The reception of those at the Sandwich Isl- 
ands surely is enough to excite the grateful song and joy- 
ful tear ; while the embarrassments of others, and particu- 



1821.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 201 

larly of the Board, the source of their subsistence, mu^t 
in turn excite the tear of sorrow. Mine, hard as is my 
heart and callous to tenderness, I could not suppress. O 
had I thousands — had I millions, and my present feehngs, 
gladly would I present it all, and myself too, to this im- 
portant work. Shall the Macedonian cry daily be sent 
forth, and will christians shut their ears ? The heathen 
have claims upon us. More than we absolutely need to 
supply our wants, is not ours. God will not approve our 
conduct if we put our hand to a single cent and spend 
it where we need it not. Who among us would not re- 
coil at the thought of takino; the charities of others for 
ourselves, or steahng that which was already appropriated 
to missionaries ? Yet if we spend more in any one thing 
than is absolutely necessary, how is our crime less 
heinous ? The only difference is, this is in our hands, and 
the other has been put out of them. Shall professing 
christians be guilty of such inconsistency and daring 
outrage ? 

26. Sabhath Mom. — This is a delio-htful mornino;; to 
a christian how doubly dear should it be ! On this sacred 
day did the Captain of our salvation burst the bars of 
death, and rise triumphant from the grave. O may I be 
enabled on this holy day to burst the chains which confine 
me to the vanities of earth, and rise above all these fad- 
ing toys. 

Eve. — The sun, gradually inclining to the western 
horizon, silently proclaims the close of the day. Gone, 
far beyond my reach, are the departed hours. The few 
days allotted me below likewise draw to a close, and so 



202 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [May, 

likewise do I descend the vale which will finally terminate 
in thfe cold grave. There shall shortly all my hopes and 
prospects, all^my anxieties and sorrows, buried lie, and ob- 
livion cover them with her veil. There shall this weary 
body, this aching head, this throbbing breast, these mov- 
ing limbs, and all this wonderful machine, find a lasting 
resting place. What will then avail all the labor and 
pains now bestow^ed upon it ? Will it smooth a downy 
pillow, or make an easy bed ? Will it refine it, purify 
it, and fit it to sleep a refreshing sleep, and in the morn- 
ing of the resurrection to appear before my Saviour ? 
Ah, no. O why, then, should I spend one anxious 
thought respecting wherewith it should be fed : and 
clothed ; or why should I set any value upon the hon- 
ors and applauses of the world, since in a few days they 
will thus cease forever? O let me daily aspire for 
something more valuable. There is a treasure laid up in 
heaven for all the ransomed of the Lord, for all who fear 
before him. O what honors here are proffered. My 
God, wdlt thou give me ambition ; give me a noble spirit, 
an aspiring mind, and I shall rise at once and seize as if 
by violence an inheritance in the skies — a kingdom in 
heaven. O what shall I there enjoy ! If now, clothed 
in flesh, with all my imperfections, my contracted views, 
my wicked heart averse to what is good, and without a 
sight, Jesus's character appears so lovely, so perfect, and 
infinitely excellent ; and if it so engages my thoughts, 
and makes me, notwithstanding my earthly-mindedness, 
so ardently long to be with him — O how much more, how 
much more beyond all comparison, must I enjoy, when 



1821.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 203 

from this clay undrest, and my spirit pm^ified, I behold 
him face to face, see and know all his glory, compre- 
hend all the worth of his character, and enjoy the full 
fruition of my utmost wishes ! Truly heaven is far above 
the most exalted stretch of the imagination. And am I 
thither bound ? This is an important question, and the 
answer to another important one may decide the case. 
If in reply to the question, ^^What think ye of Christ ?" 
I can say I think him and find him to be all things to me — 
above everything else I can enjoy — the chief among ten 
thousands — all my salvation, and all my desire, may I 
not hope ? 

TO Miss I. s. 

Dorchester, June, 1821 . 
My Dear Friend — I take my pen to comply with 
your last request of me previous to your leaving Dorches- 
ter. I have in imagination often visited you since you left 
us. Fancy has wafted me to some sheltering rock, near 
which stands the humble dwelling which I have supposed 
you to occupy. No elegance of taste, no embellishment 
of art, are there displayed. No refined society of learn- 
ing or science dwell within. No regular walks nor orna- 
mental gardens beautify the scene ; but here and there an 
ancient oak, or cragged rock, rises to view — and not far 
distant an immense forest, an almost impenetrable wilder- 
ness, bounds the scenery. But near, perhaps, runs some 
purling stream, which, as it gently descends over rocks 
and pepples, invites my dear Irene to serious contem- 
plation. In the surrounding landscape, though con- 



204 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [Jwne, 

tracted, you behold the beauties of nature free from 
the obstructions of art. The glorious orb of day regu- 
larly rises and sets, copious showers descend and refresh 
the earth, and the barren wilderness, as well as the culti- 
vated field, thrives and flourishes. The hand of God 
must there be wonderfully displayed. How manifest in 
the rising shrubs and flowers, all perfect in form and come- 
liness, though concealed from general observation. Many 
useful lessons may there be learned. Gentle rills that 
chime through the cleft rocks, and whispering zephyrs in 
the| weaving branches, like the still small voice to Elijah, 
bespeak the presence of a God ; in them, as well as in 
harsher sounds, do we hear his voice. The verdure 
of the Spring strongly evinces his care for us. He is not 
unmindful of us, however lonely and retired may be our 
situation. He sees, he watches, constantly watches, and 
with peculiar care protects his own dear children. Just 
like an herb in yonder desert, which is secluded from the 
public eye and from friendly culture, yet is caused to grow 
and flourish in its season : so the child of God, though 
deprived of many of the gospel privileges, under the be- 
neficence of heaven will sweetly thrive — for " where he 
vital smiles, there must be joy." 

I wish to hear that you enjoy the comforts of life, and 
have the satisfaction of seeing your efforts crowned with 
success and of knowing that you are doing good. If you 
have this satisfaction, I need not say that I hope you are 
happy. But I sincerely congratulate you. You are 
building the walls of Zion, advancing the Redeemer's 
kingdom, and aiding to usher in that glorious day when all 



1821.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 205 

shall know him, from the least to the greatest. Glorious 
undertaking ! In such a business you cannot be weary. 
Should an host encamp against you, the Lord is on your 
side, and you need not fear. Probably obstacles do arise, 
and the pros])ect is sometimes dark ; but he who has 
promised never to leave or forsake you, will still be near ; 
and when all other comforts fail, if in him is placed the 
firmest confidence, you will never be moved. As we travel ' 
through this world, in any condition, many and various 
will be our trials ; but if we rely on that strong arm which 
created the world and redeemed man from hell, safe and 
secure we shall remain, and nothing, as St. Paul expresses 
himself, " neither life nor death," &c. shall be able to 
separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus 
our Lord. Such is the soothing power of our religion ; 
it calms amid the storms of fife, and sweetly captivates 
the soul when darkness and distress surround. 

My dear friend, you have stepped forward to meliorate 
the condition of our fellow creatures. May you be fol- 
lowed by multitudes, eminently qualified for the arduous 
employment, while the prayers and munificence of those 
left behind shall water and bring to an exuberant growth 
the precious seed sown under the smiles of heaven. 

I trust that, though absent, you often think of our little 
^' Gleaning Circle." I hope when you approach the 
throne of grace you remember it ; and O, when there, 
will you also remember your useless friend. I know I 
have no right to encroach upon your precious time ; but 
if you can spare a few moments and write a few lines to 
20 



206 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [June, 

me, I cannot tell you how acceptable they would be. 
When you get those under your care so forward as to 
write, will you not encourage them to write short letters 
to a friend in D. who feels very much interested in their 
behalf, and by whom they would be gratefully received 
and readily answered. Specimens of their writing and 
sentiments would give me great pleasure. s. h. c. 

2. — Sable night approaches. Another day, where is it ? 
Gone, forever gone, with the years beyond the flood. 
What testimony shall there be borne by mispent days 
ao-ainst their insolvent debtor in the court of heaven ? 
Should I be summoned there to appear and answer for 
my crimes, alas ! what could I say ? Would any one 
witness for me ? Is there not one who would plead for 
me ? There is One who has left heaven and suffered and 
died to atone for my crimes ; and will he, when my 
naked soul is exposed at the just bar of God, and a long 
black catalogue of crimes appears against me, when I 
have no other refuge and nothing to look to but a frowning 
Judge and an eternal and direful doom, then will he flee 
also ? Will my Saviour then forsake me ? I hope, I trust, 
he will not. No, he will then plead ; his wounded side, 
his scars, his bufleting and scourging, will then plead the 
atonement he made ; and a God that delights in mercy 
will for his sake spare the rebel. O my God^ are these 
hopes ill founded ? Do I go too far in believing that I 
shall be saved ? Am I yet in the gall of bitterness and 
the bond of iniquity ? O, I entreat thee, I earnestly en- 
treat thee to give me sincere repentance and faith in 



1821.1 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 207 

Jesus Christ ; and if I am thine, may I hve as becom- 
eth a christian. 

5. — Have just been apprised of the decease of a cou- 
sin in Vermont, whom I addressed bv letter last summer. 
She is the first of my correspondents who has paid the 
debt of nature, and she in the bloom of life. Eleanor, 
thou art gone. Never again shall my pen perform the 
pleasant office of writing to you. O how highly shall I 
value her letters, and the little token of her friendship. 
After a long series of suffering and sorrow, with joy she 
bade this world adieu, and her happy spirit winged its 
w^ay to the new Jerusalem. O may I soon meet her 
there, unless there is something for me to do here. 

10. — Received a letter a few days since from H. 
C.,w^hose precious soul, I hope, will never realize that 
place of torment of w^hich she now thinks so lightly. 
But while I think of these things, I do not dress my God 
in terrors, and view him as a tyrant, or unjust. Far from 
it. No; I can think of his denunciations against the wick- 
ed, of his eternal punishment of the ungodly, and yet 
think him a merciful being, who does not willingly afBict 
nor grieve the children of men ; and with him I can safely 
repose my soul, my all, and rejoice that such a God can 
dispose of me. Not that I view him as partial — partial 
to me. No, all that come to him, he will safely protect ; 
and when his storm of wrath consumes the wicked, these 
shall be hidden in his pavilion, and remain sweetly at rest. 
O why is it that my views are so different from those of 
my beloved relative. O Lord, wilt thou convince those 
that are wrono; of their error. 



208 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [June, 

TO MISS H. C. OF S. 

Dear Cousin — It must be a great consolation, when 
parting with friends, to think that they will rest in heaven ; 
and that when the cares and toils of this naortaL life aj^e 
over, we shall meet them there and partake of the felicity 
of those who bow at the throne of Jehovah. Surely the 
anticipation of so much joy must in this life sv/eeten 
every bitter cup, and call our affections above this transi- 
tory world. Adam, our forefather, by one act of disobe- 
dience, brought death to this world and all our wo. The 
sentence is passed, and all men must die. But Jesus has 
risen ; he has burst the bars of death, and risen triumph- 
ant. So all who sleep in death shall likewise rise. For 
since by man came death, by man came also the resur- 
rection from the dead ; or, in other words, '' For as in 
Adam all die, even so in Christ shall all be made alive.'^ 
All souls are indeed in the possession of him who made 
all things, and he may dispose of them in whatever man- 
ner he pleases. Those who rebel and disobey his right- 
eous laws, he may justly consign to eternal wo ; and to 
those who are washed in the blood of the Lamb, and 
made meet for heaven, the day which ushers them into 
the glorious courts of heaven must be far more auspi- 
cious than that which introduces them to a world like this, 
where sin and iniquity abound. You ask how we can be 
sure of our salvation, unless it is God's will that all should 
be saved. We cannot be sure, nor have we any hope of 
our salvation, unless we believe God is willing that we 
should be saved. Whatever we believe concerning oth- 
ers, will not affect our ov/n eternal concerns. We must be- 



1821.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 209 

lieve for ourselves, and ensure our own salvation. It is 
God's design that all shall be saved that will partake of 
his grace, and this design he will beyond all doubt accom- 
plish. My belief is probably as firmly fixed as yours. 
But, my dearH., one of us must be wrong. Which it is, 
if not decided before, will be decided in another w^orld. 

I do not know what I advanced in my last that made you 
think I had such shocking ideas of God's character. Was 
it because I acknowledged hhn good to all, and his tender 
mercies to be over all his works ; that he was infinitely 
more so than we in weakness believed- — infinitely better 
to us than we believe him to be ? I know not how to ex- 
press his benevolence in stronger terms, though deeply 
sensible that I do not feel the gratitude I ought for what I 
experience. _ 

Prayer is indeed inculcated on us, not only for our- 
selves, but for others. But though it is an incumbent 
duty for us to pray for all men without distinction, I do not 
think it an incumbent duty to beheve that all, without 
exception, will be saved. Notwithstanding all the encour- 
agement we have to pray, v/e cannot think that our pray- 
ers will save the whole world. We ought to address our 
God in the belief that he is a prayer-hearing and prayer- 
answering God, for things agreeable to his will, and then 
we shall not sin : but if w^e address him without any faith 
in him, we undoubtedly mock his holy name and commit 
sin. God has evidently proved his love to the human 
race, though sinners ; but it cannot be consistent with his 
holiness to love sin. He freely offers salvation ; and if 
w^e might have an idea that God could weep, it would be 
20=^ 



210 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [June, 

when he sees sinners wilfully plunging into ruin. He 
has stretched forth his arm to rescue. He entreats them 
to accept proffered pardon. ^^ Heaven has bled that man 
might live." God has provided a way in which, consistent 
with his justice, he can save rebeUious sinners. ^' Who- 
soever will, may come and partake of the waters of hfe." 
"All things are ready." 

We do not, my dear friend, sentence millions of our. 
fellow creatures to endless misery and wo. No, far from 
it. Nor does God sentence any of those who are wilhng 
to be saved. But can we carry these wicked hearts to 
heaven ? No : unless our hearts are changed before we 
die ; unless we have, for a carnal mind, which is at enmity 
with God, the spirit of Christ, we cannot enjoy the society 
of heaven. Consequently, instead of being happy after 
the body and soul are separated, the consciousness of what 
we have lost, of all the offers of mercy which we have 
refused, with the idea of spending an eternity in such a 
situation, would so harrow up our feelings as to create a 
dreadful hell for us. Still, though sinners suffer all this 
punishment, God is the same. Yesterday and to-day he 
was and is the lover of sinners. Though thousands pro- 
bably this moment suffer their deserts, he is the friend of 
sinners. Though so many have refused, he still offers re- 
conciliation to those that now live. His arms are still ex- 
tended to save, and he will not cease to love or do those 
good who are within the reach of hope. This 1 think 
consistent with the character of a just and merciful God. 
Those words from Young's Night Thoughts, " A God 
all mercy is a God unjust," are true. , The few preceding 



1821.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 211 

lines in my opinion may be applied to those who try to 
defend Universal Salvation. 

" Why set at odds Heaven's jarring attributes. 
And with one excellence another wound, 
Maim heaven's perfections, break its equal beams, 
Bid mercy triumph over God himself, 
Undeified by such opprobrious praise ? 
A God all mercy is a God unjust." 

I think God's attributes are all in unison. Justice does 
not oppose what mercy dictates. 

You wish to know where eternal misery is called the 
second death in Revelations. I can point you to the pas- 
sages, viz. Rev. ii. 11 ; xx.G, 14; xxi. 8. You observe 
the righteous shall be recompensed in this world, much 
more the wicked and the sinner ; but you do not think 
that the righteous have all their recompense here — and 
why, then, the wicked and sinner ? In the other passages 
you have quoted. Universal Salvation is not to my satis- 
faction proved. It is not, I think, because I have wilfully 
shut my eyes to the force of reasoning. I know I am 
apt to err, and my weak judgment may lead me astray ; 
but I read nothing in the Bible like this — that every per- 
son, without exception, will be an heir of heaven. Nor 
do I read that there is but one state after death. But 
plainly do I see a distinction made between the righteous 
and wicked in their future condition. If you think that 
those verses contained in Coll. i. prove that everything 
mentioned will be reconciled to God, it is certainly done 
by the blood of Christ, which redeemeth from sin ; and 
unless this blood is applied to us and we redeemed from 
sin and reconciled to God, we can be none of his. By 



212 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHP-ISTIAN. [June, 

him, and in no other way, are all things to be recon- 
conciled. I read nothing in these verses which appears to 
have the least allusion to a future state ; of course nothing 
that proves that all are to be saved. The apostle says, 
in another place — " Now, then, we are ambassadors for 
Christ ; as though God did beseech you by us, we pray 
you, in Christ's stead, be ye reconciled to God." It is 
here evident that our reconciliation depends upon our own 
choice. 

I hope no person meditates solely on the misery of the 
impenitent after death ; if any one does, he certainly can-, 
not be happy. We are to seek our own salvation, and 
rejoice that a w^ay is provided. 

Thus far I think I have answered everything contained 
in your letter, and shall now proceed to ask you ques- 
tions. If there is no hell to escape, why do we receive 
so many warnings in the holy word, such as to flee from 
the wrath to come, &z:c.? and why so many exhortations ? 
Why W'Cre the apostles commanded to go into all the world 
and preach the gospel to every creature ? Why should 
they suffer privations and hardships, toil and hunger, \vhen 
all were safe ? Was this the doctrine they preached ? 
I should think the persecutions they suffered a sufficient 
evidence that it was not. I know not why they should 
be persecuted and put to death, if they told their hearers 
they w^ould surely be saved. No, I believe this language 
never did nor never will excite enmity or malice in a sin- 
ner's heart. It is ever congenial to his feelings to be as- 
sured that anxiety about futurity is unnecessary. It mil 
never incite the inquiry, What shall I do to be saved ? 



1821.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 213 

nor. What good thing shall I do to inherit eternal life ? but 
perhaps always tends to lull men into security. And 
when they feel secure and confident that all will be well, 
do they guard their hearts and lives with as much care as 
if they thought there w^as a future state of retribution — 
an Almighty God who noticed all their faults, as just as 
he is good, and good as he is just? Not, my friend, that 
I would by any means convey the idea that it is my opin- 
ion that none are christians who believe this doctrine. If 
I did, you might justly charge me with a great deficiency 
in that sweet grace, charity. I know that christians 
may and do err ; that they sometimes fall into worse er- 
rors than believing this : but I think this a doctrine that 
would be pleasing to a very unholy. heart. But its being 
so pleasing is no proof that it is true. I think the chris- 
tian w^ho has had his heart renewed by the influence of 
divine grace — with w^hom old things have passed away 
and all things become new — who daily walks with God, 
feeds on heavenly things, and lives above the world, look- 
ing forward to the happy hour when he knows his Saviour 
shall present him faultless before his Father's throne, there 
to reign fore ver-^far more happy, though at times harass- 
ed with temptations and sorrows, than the one who soothes 
or tries to soothe a checking conscience and hush the tu- 
mult in his breast by the behef, which he cannot but know 
may after all prove fallacious, that finally he and all his fel- 
low creatures will be brought to heaven. A well-informed 
understanding will not allow^ him to affirm, in the presence 
of his God, that he knows he of all the human race is 
right ; that he only, with a few (comparatively few), have 



214 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [June, 

been rightly taught. No, a spirit of charity and candor 
will not suffer him thus confidently to rely upon his own 
opinions without a doubt. He knows that, as many have 
been led to change their views on a death bed, so his ba- 
sis may then likewise fall to ruins ; and if it should, he 
must, as many of his brethren in the same human family 
believe, be irrecoverably lost. This reflection, even if he is 
fixed in the belief, will at some silent hour steal in ; and 
the more charity he exercises towards others, the more 
humility he possesses, and the more obedient he is to that 
command which tells him to think more highly of others 
than himself — in short, the more he loves his God and 
reverences his Maker — the more anxious will he be to as- 
certain whether he is certainly right. I speak only of 
what reason dictates ; but if once this reason is prompted 
by sincere repentance of former transgressions, and sincere 
love to God, it will excite this inquiry with the greatest 
solicitude. Am 1 wrong, or am I right ? and thus break 
his peace and disturb his rest until this most important of 
all questions is solved. Happy would it be if every one 
thus exercised would take the Bible, and, with an impar- 
tial eye, examine its sacred contents, and with prayerful 
attention search for the truth until they found the pearl, 
the precious pearl of exceeding great value. 

Will you not write again soon ? Though our senti- 
ments differ, it is still pleasant to me to receive letters from 
a friend I ever loved. My health is not much improved. 
I thank you for your kind wishes. May we meet in 
another world, where divisions are not known, but where 
amity and concord universally reign. Till then, I remain 
yours affectionately. s. h. c. 



1821.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 215 

20. — Have been thinking to-day of nature's weak fabric. 
How exposed it hourly is to innumerable injuries — 
how subject to pain and sickness. A slight disorder 
utterly debilitates it, and renders it unfit for any action 
or service ; and how thick disorders lurk around us. Even 
the air we breathe may convey to us some pestilential 
infection, which will at once subject us to the most tortur- 
ing pains. Then the body, before in all its vigor and ut- 
most strength, what is it ? The mind, likewise, is perhaps 
just as easily injured, subject to as many disasters, and 
capable of feeling greater wo. How wavering and unsta- 
ble ; how exposed to errors which in the issue are pains 
and heart-aches. But what is the cause of all this ? 
Shall we accuse our Maker of injustice in forming us thus ? 
He formed man pure. Spotless, resembling God himself, 
was the first soul created on earth. The breath of the 
Almighty, or a spark from that holy flame, that unbound- 
ed fountain of light and excellence, Vvas within him. 
But man, strongly tempted by Satan, ate the forbidden 
fruit, and involved all his posterity in wo. It is therefore 
sin that makes us weak and exposes us to so many calam-. 
ities. O for a release from sin. But as I cannot be en- 
tirely released from its dominion so long as I remain below, 
may I daily strive to conquer and eradicate it as much as 
possible from my breast, and finally overcome all corrup- 
tion. Every beating pulse leaves the number less ; every 
day that rolls over my head, every night through which I 
am protected, diminishes my time on earth. Years that 
fly away, take ofi* a large portion ; and nineteen have cer- 
tainly greatly lessened, if not almost consumed, the num- 



216 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [June, 

ber. Thousands, since I existed, have fallen on my right 
hand and on my left. The mandate has been hourly is- 
sued from the court of heaven y the fatal blow has been 
hourly struck at some of the human race. I have not 
yet been summoned hence ; but ere to-morrow's sun gilds 
the horizon, I, too, may be called into the eternal world, 
there to offer up the solemn account. Would hope then 
forsake me ? Would not my Saviour be nigh — he in whom 
I trust and do believe ? If I am really his, I know he 
would, and then my soul should greet that blest abode 
and see its smiling God. 

22. — Have spent the greater part of this day in bed. 
This weak frame, how much the slave to infirmity ! But 
it will soon find a rest in the grave. O, my soul, be pre- 
pared for laying aside this body. 

TO MISS A. C. 

What a delightful morning is this ! The air is sweet 
and refreshing:, and the Httle sono-sters are chantine; their 
melodious lays to their Creator. How much louder 
should our songs be raised ! to how much more exalted 
praise our lips be tuned ! We are indebted not only for 
creation and preservation, but for glorious redemption. 
For us the Son of God has bled, and groaned, and died. 
For us mansions are prepared above the sky ; happy spir- 
its are waiting to receive us, and angels to guard us thither. 
And shall we be insensible and ungrateful for all these 
favors ? Forbid it, O our God. But, alas ! I have to 
lament, deeply to lament my stupidity and coldness when 
thinking of these animating themes. My dear friend, 



1821.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 217 

would not a sincere christian, when reflecting on the love 
of his Redeemer and heavenly Father, feel his heart 
warmed with true devotion and glowing with zeal and ar- 
dent affection to such a God ? Would he not rise above 
all earthly things, live as it were constantly in heaven, and, 
after one foretaste of a Saviour's love, constantly dwell 
upon the interesting subject ? But I, alas ! I can ponder 
over these things, and my heart seems callous. I can 
reflect upon the sufferings of my Saviour, and my eyes 
forbear to weep ; or if any feeling is excited, it is very soon 
effaced. I fear I shall at last be weighed in the balance 
and found wanting. O, if w^e could realize as we ought 
the shortness of time, and the infinite importance of be- 
ing prepared to die, should we feel stupid and cold ? I 
need your prayers and expostulations. Will you let me 
have them. Yours, &:c. s. h. c. 

24. — I fear I am not so submissive to my heavenly Fath- 
er's dispensations as I ought to be. In one instance I know 
not how to be reconciled. Tears steal from my eyes, and I 
can hardly avoid saying — Lord, why hast thou thus afflict- 
ed thine Israel ? How can we submit to thy providence ? 
But it is the Lord ; and behind a frowning providence, I 
know he often hides a smiling face. Though the pros- 
pect of his people may be dark, very dark, yet this sea- 
son may usher in a glorious day. Yes, I must write that 
which I would willingly, if consistent with the will of 
God, have laid down my life to prevent. Dr. Worces- 
ter is no more — that excellent man, that eminent chris- 
tian, that friend and patron and father of Mission^ es and 
21 



218 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [June, 

Missionary Societies. He is gone, undoubtedly, to reap 
"the fruit of his labors ; but his friends, and all the friends 
of Zion, are left to mourn. 

July 5. — With returning health I feel an increasing incli- 
nation to take my pen and attribute to my God the praise 
and honor due to his name. O for a grateful heart — a 
heart sensible as it ought to be of all the infinite obliga- 
tions I am under to him. It is he that has raised me from 
a bed of sickness. Yes, since I last wrote I have been 
the subject of very great pain and debiUty. I felt the 
need of patience and submission to the divine will, while 
wearisome days and nights were appointed me. But 
though distressed, I felt that I was surrounded with kind 
friends and all necessary comforts. 

In my sickness I was led to think of death. My dis- 
ease was such as I knew, if not checked, would lead to 
that lingering but surely fatal disorder, a consumption. 
The gloomy vale and opening grave were not alluring. 
But I trust I felt submissive ; and at times, when reflect- 
ing on the joy that would follow if I was really united to 
Christ, I thought to depart and be with him w^as far 
better than to remain in the flesh. But I had many 
doubts, and a very wandering mind. Among the many 
comforts and privileges which I enjoyed, one which I 
greatly valued was a pious physician. Surrounded with 
mercies, O when shall I be sufficiently thankful ? 

25. — I have approached the throne of grace, and have 
found nearness of access to the Father of mercies. O 
what a privilege ! Without prayer, a christian must die. 
All his graces, all his soul, are on the decline, the moment 



1821.1 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 219 

he neglects this duty. Perhaps I may attribute all my 
coldness to this neglect. O God, wilt thou preserve me 
from committing this sin again, and make me ever atten- 
tive to the duties of the closet. 



TO Miss L. S. OF Q. 

My dear Lucy, after a long silence, has favored her 
unworthy friend with an interesting letter. Various were 
the reasons I assigned for your not writing before. Cow- 
per somewhere observes, that when his correspondents 
are silent he concludes they wish him to be so too ; and 
this opinion 1 had almost adopted for my own. The 
neglect I can easily forgive, deeply sensible that I de- 
serve none of the productions of your pen. 

I was sorry to read your complaints of darkness of 
mind and stupidity. Your letter found me in a similar 
state. My coldness and stupidity have undoubtedly ex- 
ceeded yours ; it has been very great for many months ; 
and yet, my friend, how is it possible that a christian can 
be stupid ? Everything calls to energy. If we think 
of that all-creating fiat which spoke the world into exist- 
ence, and all its concomitant attendants, it is enough to 
excite our highest veneration and esteem. If we think of 
that more stupendous deed, Jesus himself coming down to 
suffer and die for sinners — for us — will it not excite our 
love and banish stupidity ? Shall w^e long view with a re- 
alizing sense these objects, and suffer stupidity to be our 
companion ? I am inclined to think it is the neglect of 
private duties that produces this state, and that it is only 
prayer which can revive us. An animating sermon, or 



220 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [July, 

pious conversation, may alarm or comfort us for a season ; 
but if we are not led often to the closet, these feelings 
will be transient. Prayer is the only remedy. Only 
while we pray, we live. I hope you have acquired peace 
of mind, and are walking in the hght of Immanuel's 
countenance. Here is a fountain open ; here is a suffi- 
ciency. All who apply shall be richly fed, for he sends 
none empty away. Religion is the precious pearl, by 
which we are repaid, richly repaid, for parting with every 
other possession. If we love God supremely, will it not 
be our constant aim to promote his glory ? The love of 
the world is our great barrier. How apt we are to try to 
reconcile God and Mammon, and serve them both. But 
" he that is not for me,'' says the Saviour, '' is against me ; 
and he that gathereth not with me, scattereth abroad." 
Our heart and affections must therefore be pure. He pen- 
etrates the inmost corners of the heart. If there is any- 
thing sincere, it is accepted ; but if not — if we profess to 
honor him with our lips, while our hearts are far from 
him — ^we incur the wo pronounced against the Pharisees. 
If we have the form of godliness, but deny the power, 
we have no interest in him. How important, then, it is 
that we should examine ourselves, and see whether we are 
really on the Lord's side or against him. The great day 
of decision is approaching ; with us the solemn hour may 
be very near at hand, when we shall stand before our 
Judge. After all our professions, O may we not be con- 
demned, s. H. c. 

30. — O what a privilege it is to be permitted to ap- 
piroach the mercy seat by prayer. May I ever rightly 



1821.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 221 

appreciate it, and never spend another day without re- 
peatedly performing this duty. I beheve our heavenly 
Father delights to honor those who wish to know him ; 
and if we in sincerity bend the knee to him, though we 
merit nothing, yet he will condescend richly to reward us. 
^ifg' 5. Sabbath Morn. — My wicked heart is almost 
inclined to think it hard that I cannot this day go to the 
house and table of the Lord. This is the third Commu- 
nion Sabbath that 1 have been detained at home. But 
though I long to be there, I know it is right, perfectly 
right, that I am detained. Formerly, when in a very cold 
frame, I have dreaded the approach of the communion, 
sensible that I was unworthy. O have I not abused this 
solemn ordinance ? '^ Show pity, Lord — O Lord, for- 
give." What can I do but cry for mercy before God ? 

I never can behold but with extreme regret that fool- 
ish haughtiness, which teaches one person to value him- 
self more highly than another, on account of liches or 
promotion, and to scorn to oblige, or speak to, a fellow 
creature in every other respect his equal, frequently his 
superior. If I see this in my best friend, it is equally 
odious. I have seen those who are thought real chris- 
tians, tainted with this. I bless God I have seen but a 
few instances, for it has wounded me to the heart, though 
not personally in the least concerned. I have at such 
times asked — Can these be followers of Jesus ? Was this 
the spirit he manifested ? I have always thought this be- 
trayed at least a very great weakness, wherever it was 
found. Where sense is wanting, the vacancy is not unu- 
sually filled up with pride. '^ Where wit fails, pride 
21* 



222 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [Aug. 

comes to our defence." Pride, I know, pervades in a 
greater or less degree every heart ; but where a heart is 
renewed and made truly noble, pride is subdued. Lord, 
wilt thou give me the meek and lowly spirit of my Sa- 
viour. No pride — pernicious, despicable pride — was ever 
seen in him. But knowing the weakness of human na- 
ture, he took frequent occasions to exhort all his followers" 
to humility. He washed the disciples' feet, and wished 
them to do the same. And shall a disciple turn with dis- 
dain from one professedly his disciple too ? 

10. — While engaged, last winter, I formed a resolu- 
tion, if I should spend this summer at home, and nothing 
special prevented, to devote a great part of my time to 
the acquirement of rehgious and other useful knowledge. 
But, alas ! the summer is very far advanced, and how ht- 
tle progress have I made. Have I not misimproved my 
jtime ? To what has it been devoted ? What have I pro- 
duced ? O God, wilt thou forgive mispent time, and help 
me for the future to redeem and rightly improve every 
precious moment. I often think of the happy hours 
which I spent with my dear A. I might have reaped 
more benefit from her profitable society. 

18. Sabbath Morn, — O when shall I again come and 
appear before God in his holy courts ? 1 think I can say 
with the Psalmist — ^'My soul longeth, yea even fainteth 
for the tabernacle of the Lord of hosts." 

TO MISS A. C. OF B. 

Dorchester, August 21, 1821. 
It is with mingled emotions of pleasure and pain, my 
beloved sister, that I perused and re-perused your letter, 



1821.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 223 

handed me on the 18th. As I read, I could not forbear 
weeping. This is indeed a rugged path, but it is a path 
which Jesus himself has trod. He has felt all the bitter- 
ness of grief. Poignant anguish probably filled h.is heart, 
as he breathed out the pathetic lamentation over Jerusa- 
lem; and at the grave of a departed friend he likewise 
groaned in spirit and diffused his heartfelt sorrow in tears. 
And is it strange that as we sojourn here we should fre- 
quently be called to mourn and weep ? This is the path 
our dear Father has marked out for us. He saw it abso- 
lutely necessary, in order to prosecute his plans and ad- 
vance his glory, that we should each be placed in exactly 
the situation in which we are. I trust your treasure is 
laid up in heaven, and that you do not seek it here — that 
you are accustomed to soar upward in quest of sincere 
enjoyment, to feed on heavenly things — and that you de- 
rive your greatest felicity from beyond the skies. 

Undoubtedly, as you have advanced in years, you have 
felt more and more the want of guardians, advisers and 
counsellors ; and perhaps now, more than ever, you lament 
the early death of those into Vv^hose hands Providence saw 
fit to cast you. Forgive me, my beloved sister, if I dis- 
tress you by mentioning these departed relatives. You 
are doubtless convinced that it is right, perfectly right, 
that you should see their faces no more until you meet 
them in glory, and begin anew with them the songs that 
shall never end, even praise unto God. Yes, we shall 
soon have passed ^^ to the fair realms of endless light." 
However difficult our journey, we have the sweet conso- 
lation of knowing that it will soon be accompHshed ; and 



224 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [Oct 

if we are really united to Christ, with what inexpressible 
joy shall we greet the fair morning which shall usher us 
into those blest abodes. Is not this heaven worth fio;htino: 
for ? worth a short warfare here ? for the christian's life is 
indeed a warfare. The fierce fiends of hell are, as it 
were, in arms against us. But we may apply to ourselves 
the words of Elisha, when his servant saw an host of ene- 
mies compass the city, and cried — "Alas! my master, 
how shall we do ? " and he calmly replied — " Fear not, 
for they that be with us are more than they that be with 
them." Horses and chariots of fire waited around this 
man of God, to deliver him from those who aimed his 
overthrow. Is not a child of God equally as precious 
now., in his sight, as those holy men were then ? What 
a comfort it is to believe that they are. I remain yours, 
in love. s. h. c. 

Oct. 3. — My heavenly Father sees fit again to remove 
in some measure my complaints, and spare me a little 
longer. O may I no longer live a cumberer of the ground. 

14. — I cannot express my ardent desire this day to go 
to the house of God. O when shall I come and appear 
before him in his holy courts ? But this is my Father's 
good pleasure, and I will not complain. 

TO Miss P. C. OF D. 

Dorchester, October, 1821. 
I retire to my chamber and take my pen to commence 
a correspondence with my dear Miss C, in the hope that 
it may be productive of great good to our never-dying 



1S21.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 225 

souls. But though pleased with the idea of a correspond- 
ence with a beloved friend, it is with some degree of re- 
luctance that I attempt to address you. Sensible of my 
own incapacity in writing, and your superior abilities, I 
fear I can neither please nor edify. But it is the humble, 
unadorned doctrines of our Saviour Which I trust we shall 
both choose for the subject of our letters. These are 
plain and simple, and adapted by him who was Wisdom 
itself to the meanest capacity. He has condescended to 
reveal his mind and will so clearly that he that runs may 
read, and " the wayfaring man, though a fool, need not 
err therein." Thus our duty is evident, and we are told 
what w^e ought to be, though the perfections of our Maker 
are far beyond human conception. It w^as he who cre- 
ated this universe, with its millions of rational creatures. 
O what evidences there are around us of his greatness — - 
of his infinite power. Without beginning of days, or end 
of years, he reigns alone — sways his sceptre over king- 
doms and worlds, and all the armies of heaven. But, as in 
the hollow of his hand he holds his own dear children — 
kindly protects them in every danger, and whoso touch- 
eth them toucheth the apple of his eye. He will deign 
to notice the meanest and most obscure among them, and 
safely bring them to glory. Are we of this happy num- 
ber? Have w^e peace within, and is this peace ratified by 
God ? Are w^e in reality his? Specious names of godli- 
ness and piety, and high sounding professions, will avail 
nothing in the great day of decision. The hypocrite will 
then be disrobed. We may go far without true religion, 
which alone will stand the final test. 



226 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [Oct 

We are commanded by our Lord to watch, to watch 
and pray, lest we enter into temptation. Without watch- 
fulness and prayer we may fall grievously. We have 
nothing in us, no inherent power, that can insure for a 
moment a safe standing after we cease to lean on him. 
It is the immediate and special assistance of the Almighty 
that must hold us up. O what a consolation is the thought 
that he is able and wilHng to conduct us through our wea- 
risome journey to the " peaceful inn of lasting rest." This 
pilgrimage is short. These tedious labors will very soon 
be finished. Our final destiny we soon shall meet. May 
the light of our Father's countenance irradiate the gloomy 
valley, and his kind hand bring us to his seat, there to 
unite in the music of Paradise. Yours in love. 

S. H. C, 

21. Sabbath Eve. — O what a blessed privilege I have 
enjoyed this day. I have this afternoon been permitted 
to go to the house of God, and feed upon the richest man- 
na. Yes, my hungry, thirsting soul has had a supply. 
Blessed be God for such a favor. 

TO MISS I. S. OF MAINE. 

1 trust you, my dear friend, possess what must be very 
necessary in your situation — zeal and devotedness to God, 
and a prayerful spirit. Whether you are separated en- 
tirely from christian friends and gospel privileges, I have 
not learnt. I am very glad if you are favored with these 
blessings. If you are not, you probably feel the more 
need of constant help from heaven and of often visiting 



1821.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 227 

the throne of grace. You have undoubtedly found our 
heavenly Father a present God in time of need, for he is 
never unmindful of his own dear children. Thither may 
we repair in every difficulty, and with confidence, without 
the least fear of a repulse, look up to him and gain relief. 
While travelling in this world w^e are the subjects of 
privations and hardships, toils and sorrows, and if w^e have 
commenced the christian life we have many enemies to 
conquer. We have entered the field of battle in the face 
of potent enemies. But here Jesus has stood before us. 
Here he has fought and here conquered, and he has 
promised to assist us that w^e shall not fall. ^^ In the 
world," he says, '^ ye must have tribulation ; but be of 
good cheer, I have overcome the world.'' But we are 
not always to fight against principalities and powers. 
Our time on earth is short. How necessary, then, that 
w^e should have our lamps trimmed and burning, and be 
in readiness to meet the bridegroom, for then our destiny 
must be decided. Then, if children of God, we shall 
greet our wished-for home, the dear mansions of rest. 
No toils or sorrows shall there disturb our peace — no- 
thing shall there harrow up our minds, and interrupt our 
happiness ; but God himself shall kindly wipe away all 
tears from our eyes, soothe our aching hearts, and cor- 
dially welcome us to that blessed abode. No longer shall 
we complain of sin, our raging foe ; no longer shall its 
venom spread within, and taint our best performances. 
Coldness and stupidity, so prevalent among the heirs of 
heaven here, are unheard of there. A pure flame of 
love shall possess our hearts, and sincere devotion burn 



228 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [Oct 

within our breasts, as we stand and praise before the 
throne of his adorable Majesty. Surely so much glory is 
worth striving to obtain — worth a life of devotedness to 
him. 

I have been much exercised with sickness during the 
past summer and fall, but am now just restored to a com- 
fortable degree of health. I have been much detained 
from the house of God. But God is not confined to tab- 
ernacles. No, he is ever present — " where'er we rest, 
where'er we roam." 

My dear sister, my thoughts are often with you. I have 
wished I could join you and be useful. There is no sac- 
rifice I could not make if a door for usefulness to the 
wretched ignorant, to the poor heathen, should open. It 
is your province to labor among the necessitous. May 
it be that of your friends to pray for you and them. I 
trust you are not forgotten. May you persevere, and 
pursue your labors with renewed zeal and activity. But 
while you exert yourself in a field of usefulness, I hope 
you will not labor beyond your strength, and so w^ear 
yourself out too soon. Perhaps this caution is necessary. 

Yours in love. s. 

TO MISS H. C. OF S. 

I retire to take my pen for the purpose of answering 
your letter. I am sorry that there must be such a differ- 
ence in our sentiments ; but we may yet perfectly agree. 
We shall agree when we enter eternity, and know the 
truth. I hope we shall be so happy as to arrive at those 
blessed mansions which our Saviour has graciously pre- 



1821.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 229 

pared for those who love hun. He has laid down his 
Hfe for us, and is inviting us to accept of pardon and 
peace and be finally happy. 

I think it is in the power of God to bring rebellious 
man into subjection to him, for he has done it. Stubborn 
sinners have been brought to bow before his throne in 
humble submission to his will — to embrace the gospel, and 
rest in the ark of safety. But any one who does not 
comply and accept of salvation, it is not in our power, had 
we the inclination, to consign to eternal wo. A fellow 
creature never had a license to condemn another to future 
misery. No, we are forbidden to judge others. But we 
have the greatest reason to believe that there are many 
who, as our Saviour says, will not come unto him that they 
may have hfe, but choose for themselves the pleasures of 
sin for a season, the consequence of which is death. Are 
you surprised that I should express anxiety on your ac- 
count, if you rest contented in the doctrine of Universal 
Salvation ? It is a deceitfully pleasing doctrine, and 1 am 
not without my apprehensions that it will be the means 
of leading many to ruin. Many, in the near views of 
eternity, have seen its shallow basis, and renounced it — 
have confessed it unfit to die by. It will not abide by 
them and comfort them when the solemn hour of death 
approaches, and when visions and dreams must flee away* 
Then they would grasp at something real, some solid 
foundation to build their hopes upon. 

It appears very plain to me in Scripture, that there is 
a future state, and that at the day of judgment some shall 
awake to everlasting life, and some to shame and ever- 
22 



230 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [Oct. 

lasting contempt. The question which agitates so many- 
minds at the present day, was once proposed to our Sa- 
viour. One said to him — " Lord, are there few that be 
saved?" To whom he replied — '^Many, I say unto 
you, will seek to enter in at the straight gate, and shall 
not be able." This answer he accompanied with an ex- 
hortation to him to strive to secure his own salvation, lest 
he should also be found walking the broad way ; for he 
adds — ^^ When once the Master of the house is risen up 
and shut to the door, he will say to those that are knock- 
ing without, I tell you I know you not. Depart from 
me, all ye workers of iniquity." At the resurrection our 
mortal bodies will doubtless be changed. We read in 
the Bible that this mortal shall put on immortality, and 
this corruptible shall put on incorruption ; but nothing re- 
specting our hearts being changed at the same time. 

My opinion respecting unbelievers agrees with yours, 
that they are dead, dead in trespasses and sins. The 
apostles acknowledged that they were in this situation be- 
fore their conversion. You have confessed that sinners 
are dead ; and if already dead, how is it possible for them 
to experience the second death here ? You will acknow^- 
ledge, too, that sinners are unhappy and miserable, ki 
one of your letters you observed that you could not see 
the propriety of calling a state of misery in another world 
a second death ; but if sinners are unhappy here and 
properly called dead, is it not proper to call a state of 
misery hereafter a second death ? I am very far from 
thinking our heavenly Father a tyrant. God forbid that 
the thought should ever enter my heart. Think Him a 



1821.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 231 

tyrant who considers our weakness, and requires no more 
of us than we are able to perform, and accepts our mean- 
est services ; who pities us in affliction, and kindly admin- 
isters comfort to our hearts by his holy spirit ; and when 
we have no other refuge, will condescend to be our covert 
from the wind and stormy tempest ; and for all our diso- 
bedience chastens us even as a father chasteneth a son in 
whom his soul delighteth ! Shall I have such a thought 
of that Being, who, notwithstanding all our sin and rebel- 
lion, still holds us in existence, and still proffers mercy 
and invites us to heaven, there to remain with him and be 
perfectly happy ? Shall I, can I ever entertain such a 
thought of my God as this you suggest ? He need use 
no exertion — he need but frown, and we die; need but 
speak the word, and we are lost eternally. But he does 
not frown, he does not utter his voice to consign us to our 
deserts, until we have refused his offers of mercy. He 
sees that it is for the good of his creatures that a part 
should be saved, and a part left to their own free choice. 
A part, therefore, he does as it were force to obey, while 
the others pursue the ways they choose. Is there any 
deficiency here, either of justice or mercy ? There would 
indeed be of justice, were it not for the merits of Christ ; 
because his justice demands perfect obedience of his right- 
eous laws, and this none^of us perform. " But Christ is 
the end of the law for righteousness to all them that be- 
lieve." Thus justice and mercy, and all the attributes 
of God, harmoniously coalesce. This was undoubtedly 
Dr. Young's opinion ; and it wounded him to see that 
others represented the character of the divine Being in 



232 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [Oct. 

such a light that one attribute rose superior to another ; or, 
as he expresses it, 

*' Bid mercy triumph over God himself, 
Undeified by such opprobrious praise." 

But his character, as it is, will ever excite the love and 
veneration of his true followers, though an unrenewed 
person may see no beauty in it. 

I do not think there is one of the whole human race, 
capable of knowing good and evil, w^ho has not power to 
obey the commands of God and the invitations of the 
gospel. If they do this, God is willing to save them ; 
if not, I do not think it in the least derogatory to his char- 
acter to leave them to ruin. Why call God unmerciful 
because the wicked suffer eternally ? What does he do ? 
He does not make them miserable. All he does is to 
bring a part to heaven to make them happy. It is as if 
you were to compassionate a fugitive, whom you saw pur- 
suing a road wdiich you knew led directly to a horrible 
precipice, from which he must unavoidably fall and lose 
his life, and were to invite, urge, and entreat him to walk 
in a pleasant path to a mansion of which you w^as the 
owner, there to take possession. If he still persisted, 
and, though you had claims upon him for his love and 
obedience, he should to your, face peremptorily refuse, 
and treat with contempt your kindness, when he has met 
his fall should you think yourself unmerciful, tyrannical ? 
I think not. 

I cannot believe you insensible, my dear friend, to the 
fact that you run some hazard in resting your soul's future 
happiness on the principles it is your aim to vindicate. If 



182L] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 233 

these, at the great day of decision, prove false, where will 
you flee? God hath appointed a day in which he will 
judge the world and decide our eternal destiny, and how 
very important it is that at this trying moment we should 
receive the favors of our Judge. Supposing you do not 
doubt that it is secure to you ; so much the greater must 
be your disappointment, should you find you have built 
on a wrong foundation. And why is it more probable 
that the Universalists are right, than others who take 
their sentiments from the Bible ? Our Saviour, when on 
earth, took measures to excite the anxious fears of his dis- 
ciples and those around him, instead of preaching to them 
only peace. When the young man came to him, anxious- 
ly inquiring what he should do to inherit eternal life, why 
did he not tell him to indulge no anxiety on that account, 
and comfort him by saying that all the human race would 
inherit eternal life, instead of oivino; him such an answer 
as to increase his distress and send him away in sorrow 
Why did he rehearse such a parable as that of the rich 
man and Lazarus ? It must have been a cruel act, if al- 
together false, to tell his disciples and fixture generations 
about this great torment. And when one, solicitous for 
information, perhaps concerned for his own soul, asked 
him if there were few to be saved, why did he not reheve 
his mind at once, and say no one should be lost, instead 
of increasing his burden by telling him to strive to enter 
the straight gate. If there is no such thing as damnation, 
everlasting destruction, fiery indignation, and unquencha- 
ble fire, and they are never to be preached nor believed, 
why do they stain the pages of that holy book where we 
22=^ 



234 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [Oct, 

find the expressions ? Let us believe our Father false 
and blot them out, or else hold to the declaration and be- 
lieve these words are not without meaning. Surely what 
was truth then, is so now ; what was then preached and 
taught, should be so now, without diminution. 

What I think to be the fundamental doctrines of the 
gospel have been believed from the earliest ages ; they 
have triumphed over infidelity, Popery, and every foe. 
Though they have led many to the stake, they have there 
wonderfully supported them. In the belief of these doc- 
trines, which have thus carried their subjects undaunted, 
serene and happy, to the most shocking tortures and to 
death, I would hve and die, for I am persuaded that no 
other will stand the test. I am not contending for any 
particular creed, but for those doctrines only that lead the 
sinner, with all his guilt, to the foot of the cross, there to 
give up everything for Christ and to begin to live to 
God. Then there is no danger, no fear of mistake, re- 
specting what doctrine is right or wrong ; the soul is then 
safe. And when the archangel shall have announced the 
end of time ; when the sleeping millions have arisen from 
their graves ; when the globe itself, which we now inhab- 
it, shall yield to the fiery element, and cease to be, then 
he can smile at ruin, for God is his God, and heaven is 
his. Desirable indeed is this situation. Who would not 
wish to know he should be secure when ruin and desola- 
tion spread abroad ? Then we shall no more inquire 
what is truth, for the Judge shall determine our irrevoca- 
ble fate. Then, as a celebrated poet observes, 

'' The goddess with determined aspect turns 
Her adamantine key's enormous size 



1821.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 235 

Through destiny's inextricable wards, 
Deep driving every bolt on both their fates ; 
Then from the crystal battlements of heaven, 
Down, down she hurls it through the dark profound, 
Ten thousand thousand fithoms, there to rust, 
And ne'er unlock her resolution more." 

Will you permit me to conclude by adopting the lan- 
guage of an eminent minister of the gospel, who at the 
close of one of his sermons on doctrinal points thus ad- 
dresses his hearers — " No person ought to give sleep to 
his eyes, nor slumber to his eyelids, till he has searched 
these first principles to the bottom, and become well 
grounded and settled in the truth. Drop every other 
concern ; forget your business, forget your sleep, forget 
your food, till the questions are decided. Search the 
Scriptures ; if you find not these doctrines which I have 
set forth, reject them — I charge you, upon your peril, 
reject them. God forbid that I should wish to impose my 
creed upon you. Call no man master, but examine the 
Scriptures for yourselves. It is they w^ho by business 
and amusements are detained from their Bibles, that drink 
in the poisonous errors of the day. Were there but one 
chance in a thousand that these doctrines will prove true 
at last, no one bound to an eternal world ought to rest till 
he is certain that he has explored them to the bottom ; 
for if they do prove true, and you venture forward into 
eternity upon the ground of your belief, you are certainly 
lost. I conjure you, by all that is sacred, not to rest your 
eternal all upon a doubtful basis." 

Yours, affectionately. s. h. c. 

P. S. — Since I wrote I have been exercised with much 



236 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [JVov, 

pain and sickness. Soon after my return home I was 
taken with a distressing pain in my side, which with a 
cough and difficulty of breathing reduced my strength and 
brought me very low. But from the application of blis- 
ters and from medicine, I found great rehef. Again I am 
restored in some measure to health, wdiich is the greatest 
of temporal blessings. 

TO MISS L. S. OF Q,. 

Dorchester, A^v. 4, 1823. 
Your letter, my dear friend, handed me about four 
weeks since, came very seasonably, and was full of need- 
ed instruction. Yes, surely, we have enough to urge us 
forward with unequalled zeal. All things belong to the 
zealous christian, and with the eye of faith we can see 
immense treasures laid up and kept for him at the end of 
his journey. And, the more diligent and persevering he 
is, so much the more shall he possess ; not as a reward 
of merit, but a free gift from the King of kings. Shall we 
here lie, then, in sloth and sleep ? Are we so bhnded as 
to see no beauty in these things, nothing that should make 
us desire them ? My dear Lucy is doubtless engaged in 
the best of causes, but her friend is the reverse. In my 
heart prevails a criminal coldness and stupidity, and 1 am 
often at a loss how to decide the important question 
whether I am a child of God or not. Whosoever is on 
the Lord's side ought to come forward boldly at this day 
of disputes and controversies, andnot be ashamed to stand 
forth and defend the doctrines of the gospel. He must 
take up his arms, and not shrink, though opposed by po- 



1821.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 237 

tent adversaries. Can he unmoved see the cause he has 
espoused suffer by the calumny of its opponents ; see 
them aim their blows against a cause its votaries have not 
courage to aid ? No ; though many are too slothful and 
inactive, yet whoever really loves his Saviour will love to 
conquer his foes and advance his kingdom. This must 
lay near his heart ; and precious is the promise, that as 
our day is, so shall our strength be. Prayer is the con- 
quering- weapon. Without it, we fight in vain ; without 
it, we soon become exhausted. But this I know is fre- 
quently a cross. I could not believe that any but myself 
had ever found it so contrary to their inclinations to ad- 
dress the throne of grace. This has pained my heart 
and drawn tears from my eyes, for. I know prayer is a 
privilege, and I always experience a benefit from it. 

My ideas perfectly agree with yours respecting the 
principal evidences of a renewed heart. Humility and love 
I conceive to be the chief. It seems as though we might 
easily decide the important question ; but when we con- 
sider how exceedingly deceitful our hearts are — how 
ready, in every instance, to determine favorably concern- 
ing ourselves, and beheve all is well — how ready, too, 
Satan is to quell anxious thoughts and lull into security, 
we find it requires a diligent search into our own hearts, a 
thorough examination into our real motives and desires. 
Many, were you to put the question to them, would with- 
out deliberation answer in the affirmative. As they view 
God's character, they do love it. Perhaps mistakes are 
frequently made here. When they review their hfe they 
cannot help owning that he has been good to them, and 



238 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [XoV, 

they view him in such a light as to love and revere him. 
Perhaps they divest him entirely of justice, make him a 
God all mercy, and think they cannot help loving him. 

I have just closed a letter to an Universalist friend, with 
whom I have for some time continued a correspondence ; 
one who is so strongly fixed in her belief that I feel confi- 
dent that nothing but the arm of Omnipotence itself will 
change her heart. Yet he may bless my feeble means. 
Is it not our duty to use every exertion to reclaim the 
wandering ? Whatever we do from a right motive, is ac- 
cepted before God, whether he bless the issue or not. 
While so many opinions prevail, while so many stumble 
and fall in groping over the dark mountains of error and 
superstition, without a saving gleam of the glorious gos- 
pel of light — if we are right, if we are firmly fixed on the 
ever-during Rock, and sheltered under the wings of the 
Almighty, how great is our debt of gratitude ! The doc- 
trines we believe are deduced from the w^ord of God. Sa- 
an and his emissaries have always been maliciously em- 
ployed against them ; but they have triumphed over 
every foe, and are handed down to us. They have carried 
the long Hst of martyrs, composed and happy, through 
tortures, at the mention of which human nature shrinks, 
and thousands in a dying hour have gloried in them. 
Such a pre-eminence has this our religion over every other. 
Well may we rejoice in it. What are riches, what are 
honors, when compared with this ? 

My health is somev/hat improved, but my time on earth 
is short. The messenger of death may now be knock- 
ing without^ and I may very sooq enter the dark valley 



1821.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 239 

of the shadow of death. Such is the end of mortals. 

But to the christian these scenes are not without a bright 

and more cheering aspect. As the world recedes, he 

can with indescribable pleasure look beyond, for he knows 

there is laid up for him a crown which cannot fade. 

Heaven is his long-desired home ; and who that entertains 

a hope of heaven would shrink from death ? Why do 

" The pains, the groans, the dying strife 
Fright our approaching souls away " 

from the superlative happiness beyond them ? I long once 
more to sit under the droppings of the sanctuary, where 
I have spent so many happy and I trust not unprofitable 
hours. Will you doubt it, my dear sister, when I tell you 
I have not been there since July 29 ; that I have heard 
our beloved pastor but twice in the last five months, and 
that more than seven have elapsed since I have been in- 
dulged with sitting at the table of the Lord. These are 
afflictions, to which I have ever till now been unaccustom- 
ed, but which I am deeply^sensible I deserve. Hoping for 
your furtherance and growth in grace, I must in haste say 
adieu. If I offer this to you full of errors, I trust you will 
forgive. I remain yours, in sincere love. s. h. c. 

15. — Who is a God like our God, and who a friend 
and father like unto him ? Earthly friends may fail 
— they do fail — they are changeable creatures. The 
friend who to-day makes high professions and almost 
adores, to-morrow will set his affections on another, and 
we may with chagrin behold our rival. The friend who 
administers to our comforts to-day, who stands waiting to 



240 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [JVoV, 

proffer the lenient hand and pour into our wound the oil 
of gladness, who alleviates in every possible way our 
woes and cheers us in affliction, may to-morrow be the 
very person to inflict a blow and molest our peace. So** 
changing, so uncertain, is the friendship of human crea- 
tures ! In christians, too, we find some things which show 
they are far from perfection. They may be left to make 
vain pretensions, and thus falsify their own words ; at least 
they may change when they are sincere. Perhaps I 
know but little of this trial. What little I have experi- 
enced, however, I think has not been in vain. If Jesus 
is my friend, what can I wish for more ? I have not an 
earthly friend I cannot resign for him. If he is mine, 
O what a treasure, what an infinite treasure ! Without 
him, with all earthly friends, I am despicable, wretched, 
and meanly poor. 

TO Miss A. c. 

Dorchester, JVovember, 1821. 

I embrace, my dear friend, the first opportunity to 
answer, according to my weak ability, the demands 
of your letter. We were both gratified with the pre- 
cious privilege of hearing Mr. M. preach on Wednes- 
day. A precious privilege indeed. It is now gone to 
testify to the improvement or misimprovement which we 
made. O how solemn is the reflection that the eternal 
and almighty God sees all our thoughts and actions, pen- 
etrates the inmost recesses of our hearts, and nicely scans 
all our motives and feelings. 

Soon, very soon, also, our lamp of life must be extin- 



1821.1 



DIAllY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 241 



guished. The breath that now heaves our lungs shall be 
arrested by a hand stronger than ours, and the beating 
pulse be quietly still. But Jesus died. Yes, our adora- 
ble Master, cur blessed Irnnianuel, once bowed his head 
and meekly yielded to the grim monster. He died not as 
a christian may. He had not the presence of a covenant 
God, the smiles of a kind Father, to cheer him in the fierce 
pangs of dissolution. He had not a friend to stand by him 
and wipe away the clammy sweat ; not one to adminis- 
ter the last comfort he craved. No — when by severe 
wounds his blood had been wasted, and a parching thirst 
ensued, he could not have a drop of water to allay the 
raging fever ; not one blessing, not one refreshment w^as 
allowed. He was left by all his professed friends to die 
in acutest agony. Yonder stood weeping several w^omen, 
who had dared to follow at a distance their once-loved 
friend to this awful spot. Thus, among transgressors and 
vile persecutors, expired our beloved Lord. The sun 
forbore to see the deed, the earth quaked and was covered 
with darkness. Is it a mere chimera, or did he really suffer 
so much for us ? Was he overwhelmed with amazement, 
chilled with dreadful apprehensions, and scorched by flam- 
ing wTath, for us ? And shall we doubt his kind intentions 
towards us, when even those around him, those who in- 
flicted the deadly wounds, excited his pity ? No, doubt- 
less at that moment he bore his followers on his heart ; 
doubtless he looked forward to those for whose benefit his 
mediatorial death was inflicted, and anticipated the hour 
when he should present before his Father's throne those 
whose ransom ■ he was paying. O what has not Jesus 
23 



242 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [JVoV. 

done for us ? This I think is an exhaustless theme. 
When we rebelled, and divine justice held with a firm 
hand the flaming sword over our naked souls, then he step- 
ped forward, and on him fell the heavy, awful blow; on him 
glanced the two-edged, devouring sword, and was reeked 
in his streaming blood. How shall we repay such a 
deed ? Surely a life of continued service — unremitted 
diligence — and sincere, uninterrupted devotion, falls infi- 
nitely short of compensating for such an act. The un- 
speakable benefit arising from his labor and suffering is 
ours ; he received nothing himself. 

Seeing that all the things we now behold fade away, 
that the earth itself must be dissolved and perish, O may 
we not set our affections on any fleeting object. Should 
the sun of prosperity and joy gild our undertakings and 
lighten our paths — should we have more than heart could 
wish — without an interest in our Redeemer how WTCtched 
must we still be ! O, then, may we labor chiefly for that 
treasure which shall endure forever. Gladly would I 
write an hour longer to a beloved sister ; but writing so 
increases the pain to which I have been for some time 
subject, that I am obliged to give less time to it than usu- 
al, though perhaps T ought to apologize for the length of 
this epistle. Let us reflect on the sufferings, the inter- 
cessions, the merits and example of our Lord ; the insen- 
sible and speedy flight of time, and our proportional ad- 
vances to eternity, and then think what inconsistent be- 
ings we are to suffer the concerns of a day, an hour, or 
a moment, ever so to engage our time and thoughts as 
to shut out death and eternity. You doubtless bear these 



1821.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 243 

things more in your mind than your friend, though sickness 
has more than once called upon me to arise from the bed of 
sloth. Farewell. Yours, in christian love. s. h. c. 

Dec, 19. — A kind God has seen fit to restore me, a 
vile sinner, almost to perfect health. Shall I ever forget to 
praise his name for all his goodness to me. Methinks, 
were I always to realize as I ought my infinite obhgations, 
I should immediately begin a song of unceasing praise. 
My tongue would never forget to speak a Saviour's love. 
This exhaustless theme would be continually issuing from 
my lips — a Saviour's love, his dying love to dying men. 
It is by the Lord's mercies that we are not consumed. 
Adorable mercy ! Wonderful, unbounded goodness ! 
Goodness which centres in every living creature, in every 
vvheeling world, yet extending without circumference. 

24. — Have attended to the reading of many interesting- 
pieces in the '' Evangelical Magazine." How many and 
various are the religious publications of the day. Christian 
knowledge circulates in many limpid streams. Ignorance 
must be the effect of carelessness and inattention alone. 

30. — This is the last Sabbath in the year. 

" Thus far my God has led me on, 
Thus far his grace prolongs my days." 

It has long been a query with me, why I live. He 
who holds the universe in his hand can answ^er the ques- 
tion, and he alone. Universal Benevolence, to promote 
his glory, still holds me in being. It is his will, and this 
is sufficient for me. But O, I long to be useful ; I long 
to see that I in some humble measure advance his glory. 



244 



HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [Jan, 



This is probably the last close of a year that I shall ever 
see. Before another December returns, this hand will 
perhaps, lifeless and cold, lie beneath the clod — this head 
no more retain the thinking principle, but lie low in the 
dust. Is there not something very rem^arkable in death ? 
To see a form one day all life and animation, able to 
engage in any pursuit and business, and the next cold and 
lifeless, and gradually decaying and falling to dust. What 
effects this mighty change ? How must an infidel view 
it ? to what must he ascribe this total extinction of life ? 
He will probably resort to second causes. But a christian 
need not inquire into the physical meaning of death. Suf- 
ficient for him to know himself born to die, and his soul 
to enjoy the presence of his immaculate Redeemer in the 
pure and spiritual regions of joy. 

Jan. 6. — Another Sabbath is come, and I cannot enter 
the courts of the Lord's house. God's will be done, and 
his alone. I know he will do right. 

This year finds me in comfortable circumstances, in the 
possession of many invaluable blessings — all coming im- 
mediately from that kind God whom I Iiave times w^ith- 
out number offended. I feel that I siiould love and value 
them for his sake alone — love tliem because they come 
from him. If I know my own heart, this does greatly en- 
hance their value ; but I am far from being so sensible of 
this as I ought to be. I am too apt to look to second 
causes, and forget the primary source of every good 
thing. I too seldom realize what a privilege the Sabbath 
is, and how thankful I should be to the King of glory for 
such a gift. 



1822.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 245 

I was perusing, this morning, a sketch of the memoirs 
of W. Cowper. The humihty which shone so conspicu- 
ous in all his character, raises it high in my esteem. In 
his human nature was humility, but grace increased it. 
Doubtless in some instances his natural diffidence was car- 
ried too far to be a virtue. The memoirs of his brother, 
written by himself, 1 hav^e frequently read with pleasure. 
It is delightful and profitable to read the life and death of 
christians ; and is it not a striking proof of the reality of 
religion, that the language of its disciples is universally 
the same ? In trifling things they may differ ; but in the 
cardinal points, christians, in every quarter of the globe, 
unite. Each and all acknowledge themselves born in sin, 
prone to evil, and totally lost without the interposition of 
a Saviour. His merits alone they plead. The glorious 
day, I trust, is drawing on, when the lion shall sweetly re- 
pose with the lamb, the leopard with the kid, and chris- 
tians shall have none to molest them ; when no one shall 
fear to avow his sentiments, and the name of the true 
God shall be every where revered. Hasten on, happy 
day, and bless our darksome land. Hasten on, and light- 
en and irradiate the dark corners of the globe. Let the 
brightness of thy coming greet the waiting eyes of the 
lonely missionary, the praying Indian in his little insu- 
lated hut, and the sable African in his dark retreat. 

12. — Several of my fellow creatures in D. have this 
week been consigned to the silent tomb. My turn may 
next arrive. I shall soon be confined to the narrow house, 
and surviving mortals will pass heedlessly by and trample 
my httle mound to a level with its kindred earth. Should 
23* 



246 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN* [Pth. 

a humble monument be raised to my memory, the scowl- 
ing blasts and rough hand of time will soon erase from 
thence my worthless name ; and while every earthly 
friend is forgetting that I ever existed, the worms shall be 
feeding bountifully on this decaying flesh, and soon no 
traces, either on earth or beneath its surface, wdll be left 
of this too-much-loved self. I shall then slumber silently; 
no passing traveller shall interrupt my long repose, no 
sound of contentious voices safute my ears, no noise of 
hurry and business, nor of care and sorrow, disquiet me. 
This head shall lie quietly still, witliout a plan or scheme. 
Free from toil or pain, how calmly shall I rest. O that I 
might in some good degree advance my blessed Redeem- 
ers's cause, and then lay me down ia that contemplated 
spot, leaving behind me, for the sake of surviving friends, 
evidence of my sincerity, and soar to realms above, for 
which I was born, for which I live, and for which I dare 
to die. Prepare me, O my God, for this great event. I 
rely alone on thee. 

TO Miss L. S. OF Q. 

Dorchester, February 24, 1822. 
As another Sabbath morn dawns upon us, O that we 
might, like Abraham, the father of the faithful, say to all 
worldly concerns, " Tarry here while I go yonder and 
worship" — while 1 ascend the accUvity towards Mount 
Zion, rise above this terrestrial globe, far above the mean 
concerns of earth, and hold heavenly converse and sweet 
communion with my covenant God, my Preserver, my 
Benefactor, my Saviour and Redeemer. And why not, 



1822.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 247 

on this holy day, feast entkely on heavenly things ? There 
is nothing of sufficient consequence to excuse an intrusion 
upon our devotional hours ; and if christians, we certainly 
do not grudge to give to God exclusively the seventh part 
of time allotted us here. But ah, it is easy, very easy for 
us to sit down and mark out the way in which w^e ought 
to tread — to smooth the path before us and lay down rules, 
the strictest rules, for our w^alk and conversation ; but 
when we arise to put our resolutions into practice, and pur- 
sue the path so plainly discerned, w^e find we have a heavy 
clog to draw, an enticing sin to beset us. O sin ! how 
strangely interwoven in our nature — how it pervades cur 
every action, and how it reigns and thrives within. This 
blinds our eyes, and then strews our path with cruel thorns 
and snares. But this is a foe, which, if we ever arrive at 
the gates of the holy city, w^e shall leave behind. It will 
not track us thither, nor find admittance there. Yes, if real 
christians, we shall finally gain a complete victory over this 
our inveterate foe, our deceitful enemy. How must joy 
thrill our hearts as we then shake off dull sloth, every 
inclination to evil, and every evil itself, while Jesus kindly 
clothes us in white robes of immaculate purity, and gives 
us harps to tune his praise. There, after all the cares and 
toils of this short fife are over, I hope we shall meet and 
unite with all the ransomed of the Lord in the song of 
Moses and the Lamb, never more to part. But surely 
there is need of the strictest watch over ourselves, lest we 
should be found unworthy these blessed mansions. 

At this time, when errors abound, and the professors 
of religion are cold, how ought its true followers to 



248 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [Feh. 

Strengthen the things that remain^ to cultivate the sparks 
of grace that are left behind, instead of catching the pre- 
valent infection and slumberino; too. This contamon has 
already spread too far. O may its desolating sway stop 
here, and spread no further. My dear friend, w^ill you 
write tome soon. All your letters are truly welcome. I 
expect our friend A. will spend some time here this spring, 
and I wish you could make it convenient to pass a few days 
with us. If health permits and nothing special prevents, 
I expect to go to B. as soon as the first of April, to reside 
several months. At the throne of grace will you remem- 
ber your friend. s. h. c. 

23. — I have been reflecting to-day on the inestimable 
value of the Bible. Lately I was in company with a fel- 
low creature, who feels himself to be wretched. In con- 
versation he represented himself as the most unhappy, the 
most miserable of all the human race. Complicated woes 
and sorrows attended him, and he had not one single ray 
of comfort, one source of happiness. The prize he aimed 
at, and the only thing, in his opinion, that would make 
him happy, was beyond his reach, and he appeared confi- 
dent he should never more see good in the land of the liv- , 
ing. Besides all his great afl[lictions, to add to his an- 
guish he was daily anticipating far greater. He had no 
comfort, and expected none. For this reason he excludes 
himself from society, and wishes to die. But all his hopes, 
and wishes, and sorrows, arise and centre in the world. 
He looks to fluctuating fortune for happiness, and so he 
finds disappointments. I can easily trace the cause of all 



J8Q2.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 249 

his afflictions, of his restless anxieties and inquietudes from 
day to day. He disbeheves the sacred Word. He dis- 
credits the divine Oracles, and where can he seek rehef 
in trouble? There is no source to him but what the world 
affords, and that ever disappoints, so that he is in fact 
without a refuge or a hope. The billows will always 
swell around him ; the tempest will always be threatening ; 
and ere one stroke is past, one swell is gone, the clouds 
at a distance will gather blackness and portend a more 
dismal desolation. He has an immortal soul made to soar 
to heaven ; and while he bends and confines it down 
where it can never feel at home, can never be at rest, it 
is beyond possibility for him to be happy. 

TO Miss H.C. OF S. 

Dear Cousin — I received your letter with pleasure, 
but on reading it was sorry to find you still so zealous in 
vindicating those doctrines which in my o])inion tend 
greatly to lessen your ideas of a just and holy God and 
the pure religion of the gospel. I think the Scriptures 
as plainly assert the eternal misery of the wicked as any 
other truth w-e take from them ; and that to a mind un- 
prejudiced and open to conviction, this would appear clear. 
Place the Bible in the hands of a heathen, and give him 
no other instruction, explain no part of it to him, and I 
am confident he never could tell you that he found, by 
perusing it, that all the human race would be brought to 
glory. Facts prove that the contrary would be the case. 
You speak of Universalism not being understood. 1 fancy 
it is something which needs much explanation. The 



250 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [Feb. 

Standard is erected just as the human mind would have it, 
and the character of a sovereign God reduced to it. Many 
passages of his word are detached, and others wrought 
over, until they are all brought down to this standard. This 
is the favorite doctrine, and everything, however obsti- 
nate at first, must submit. But the truth in the Scriptures 
is declared so plain, that he that runs may read, and the 
wayfaring men, though fools, shall not err therein. 

The second death is clearly explained in Revelations. 
To maintain that there is no second death after the death 
of the body, I do not see how you can do otherwise than 
throw aside many passages of Scripture; for instance. Rev. 
xxi. 7, 8 ; xiii. 8, 17 ; xiv. 9, 10 ; xx. from verse 10 
to the end. Where can we find plainer language than is 
here used ? How can we make a stand here ? The - 
atory of the rich man and Lazarus I do not understand 
literally, for I conceive it to be a parable ; but, like other 
parables of our Saviour, I think it is drawn from analo- 
gous circumstances, and has not so intricate a meaning 
as you have annexed to it. The Jews I do not think are 
to be cast off forever in this world ; they are not always 
to be despised and contemned, the ofFscouring of all na- 
tions. No — the Scriptures abound with promises of their 
future restoration to their own land, and to the favor of 
the Lord. The holy Psalmist, indignant at their rebellion 
and sin, requests that their eyes may be darkened, and 
tiieir back bowed down alway ; but a merciful God re- 
serves mercy even for them, a most disobedient people ; 
and, says Paul — "^ Have they stumbled that they should 
fall ? God forbid. They shall not utterly fall, but only 



1822.1 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 251 

for a season^ that salvation may come to the Gentiles, and 
so provoke them to emulation." The Prophet Hosea 
writes — '^ Afterward shall the children of Israel return and 
seek the Lord their God and David their king, and shall 
fear the Lord and his goodness in the latter days;" which 
are sure promises that after the Gentiles are brought into 
covenant with the Lord, the Jews shall also be favored. 

In the most remarkable, the most condescending manner, 
God has made provision for the salvation of those who 
believe. The Messiah was early promised, and in due 
time died and bore the sins of many. How kind, gra- 
cious and manifold were his invitations to all around hirii 
and to us, to believe on him and be saved. And we have 
the power. Where is the existing being who cannot, if 
he chooses, turn to God and become an heir of salvation ? 
Who was not formed by God to serve him and to be hap- 
py eternally ? Point out the person, my dear friend, 
whom God has brought into existence incapable of serv- 
ing him and glorifying him forever in the way in which w^e 
consider the Bible requires, and then, and not before, ac- 
cuse us of representing God tyrannical and unmerciful. 
But to believe that the mercy of God will protect and 
save you, though you refuse to obey his commands, is 
presumption in the highest degree. Seriously consider 
the subject, and you cannot, if you study for yourself, but 
be sensible that you risk the eternal welfare of your soul 
at a venture. Your all is at stake, your everlasting good. 

The poetry in my last, to which you allude, came from 
Young ; and if you are acquainted with his writings or 
character, you kuow he was not a papist or a heathen. 



252 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [March, 

Whether agitated at the view of the solemn hour of retri- 
bution or not, I cannot tell ; bui I think it most probable 
he could look forward with christian-like composure to the 
important hour when the eternal destinies of all shall be 
determined, when it will be too late for the wicked to re- 
form, and when the righteous shall bid a final adieu to 
suffering. The poetry, I think, I need not explain, be- 
cause I am confident you are sensible it is metaphorical. 

May I not conclude with a wish, similar to yours, that 
you will search the Scriptures and be convinced of the 
truth ; for until you do, I cannot think you safe or happy, 
for you may prove to be of the number whom God leaves 
to hew out broken cisterns. 

My dear friend, if I have in this letter been too free to 
censure, please forgive. s. h. c. 

March 16. — The waxen wings of time have borne 
another week beyond my reach, and far beyond recall. 
With what velocity has its flight been attended. But 
Time, even thou must ere long be swallowed up. Thy 
reign is short. The great archangel will ere long lift his 
hand and swear that thou shalt be no more. At that mo- 
ment what will succeed to thy throne, and under what influ- 
ence shall we exist ? Alas! our minds are so contracted, our 
conceptions so hmited, that it is impossible for us rightly 
to digest the great and momentous facts of judgment and 
eternity. O how will the resurrection morn burst on our 
astonished eyes, when that audible and loud voice shall 
utter itself at once to all the sleeping milhons in east and 
west and north and south, as it did to Lazarus — ^^ Come 



J8-2'2.1 



DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 253 



forth." Tlien shall they at once burst their cold recepta- 
cles ; bone shall cement with bone, and flesh and sinews 
again be united. Jesus shall instantaneously form a body 
for each, and each shall appear before God. O how will 
this summons confound the sinner, and where then shall 
the hypocrite appear ? 

17. — Another dear Sabbath draws to a close. How ma- 
ny thousands on this holy day have sitten under the sound 
of the gospel and been refreshed, while I have been oblig- 
ed to }3ass the day at home. To attend the dear place 
where I have so often been instructed — where I have sat 
and heard with pleasure the truths of the gospel — where, 
too, I have wept at the thought of my own vileness and 
guilt, would indeed have conferred^ the highest delight. 
The thought of those departed hours casts a gloom over 
my mind and excites the rising tear ; for such is my pre- 
sent state of health that I do not anticipate the return of 
similar favors. It is necessary that we should learn in the 
school of affliction. The rod must bring us to the path of 
rectitude. Had I never been debihtated and unable to 
attend divine w^orsJiip, I never could have had the feel- 
ings I now -have for christians similarly afflicted. I should 
not have known, had it been in my power, how or in 
what way to assist them ; and this is the excuse 1 can 
make for others, who in this respect appear deficient. But 
though deprived of attending public worship, though I 
cannot go up with the multitude who keep holy day, I 
have innumerable blessings, for which my heart should 
swell in songs of praise. I have a pleasant home, w^here 
I can spend my time as I wish, where noise and confusion 
24 



254 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHiRISl-IAN. [March^ 

do not disturb. I aim blessed with a variety of religious 
books and publications, which I am permitted to peruse, 
and a few christian correspondents whom I have found a 
benefit to my soul. 

19. — Everything — the whistling winds, the floating 
clouds, the springing of the grass, the bursting forth of the 
buds and the starting leaves, but more particularly hurry- 
ing time — reprove my tardy steps, my dilatory progress 
in the ways of Zion. On the verge of the unfathomable 
abyss, is where mortals tremble ; here is where the stout- 
hearted have been forced to yield to fear, and here the in- 
fidel drops his defenceless weapons. But J the beloved 
child of God, as he stands on this awful spot, as he sees 
the portals of eternity open for his reception, may rejoice 
with joy unspeakable and full of glory. Let me, O my 
God, die the death of the righteous, and let my last end 
, be like his. 

TO Miss O. F. P. OF C. 

After a long time, my dear Miss P. has taken her pen 
and written to her unworthy friend. 1 knew not to what 
to impute your long silence, but with pleasure I will re- 
new the correspondence. O may it be long and profita- 
ble to each of us. With respect to a revival of religion 
in D. I wish I could satisfy your inquiry with pleasing 
intelligence ; but, alas ! I fear we all experience the sad 
reverse, a cold declension in the best of causes. There 
are^a few who have recently had their attention called 
to /their spiritual concerns, but very few have for some 
tirhe come forward and united with the church. A realiz- 



1822.] 



DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE* 255 



ino- sense of our sinfulness must excite renewed exertions 
to live to God : it will lead us to prayer, and prayer is 
the only remedy. It is by prayer alone that we can over- 
come this coldness, and I am inclined to think that it is 
only the neglect of this duty that occasions it. Were we 
as punctual to our closet as we are to our worldly con- 
cerns ; did we as frequently and with as much pleasure 
converse and hold sweet communion with our God as with 
the friends we love, w^e should never have the occasion 
we now do to go mourning all the day, desiring the light of 
God's countenance, which alone can dissipate the gloom 
which reigns within, and lamenting that it is not with us 
as in former days when the candle of the Lord shone 
bright around us. It is our duty carefully to avoid this 
backshding from God — a duty we owe to him, our own 
souls, and our fellow creatures ; for as professing chris- 
tians w^e are as a city set on a hill, which cannot be hid. 
The world is watching the lives of christians. Do they 
observe us careless and negligent in duty, deviating from 
the path of rectitude, they draw their conclusions that re- 
ligion is vain, and, as it were, take refuge under our fail- 
ings, until, through our means, they are finally ruined. 
Solemn thought ! Though we may repent, and reform, 
impressions are made on their minds too strong to be eras- 
ed. We must watch with peculiar care our w^ords and 
actions ; they may be noted down, and influence the eter- 
nal destiny of a fellow creature. 

That we may both be prepared for the solemn hour of 
death, lay down in peace, and meet a smiling Father, is 
the fervent prayer of your affectionate friend s. 



256 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [March, 

April 8. — Yesterday morning attended meeting at Mr. 
D.'s in B. (where I expect to reside for several months), 
and was permitted once more, after a year's deprivation, 
to sit down at the table of the Lord. I think 1 felt it good 
to be there. 



TO Miss R. R. OF D. 

Boston, March, 1822. • 
It is with pleasure I understand you are about to give 
yourself up to God in the presence of his professing peo- 
ple, and become united with his church. Since I heard 
that you had turned your attention from the vanities of 
time and sense to the important considerations which con- 
cern your everlasting peace, I have been anxious to see 
and converse with you. An opportunity has not been af- 
forded ; and now, as you stand a candidate for admission 
to a solemn ordinance, I take my pen to address you a 
few lines. This is an important duty, a solemn engage- 
ment. Our Saviour's dying injunction there is a peculiar 
pleasure in obeying ; and if this is done from love to him, 
he will ever deign to meet and bless us. Doubtless, my 
dear friend, you feel deeply impressed witli the solemnity 
of the ordinance, with your utter unworthiness to partake 
of it, and perhaps a sense of your weakness and utter 
nothingness suggests distressing fears that you will finally 
be left to dishonor the cause you espouse. But though 
you are weak, Jesus, in whom you trust, is strong ; though 
of yourself you are nothing and can do nothing, yet clad 
in his righteousness and in his strength you can do all 
things. The fear of one day deserting the cause, of put-» 
ting your hand to the plough and looking- back, with the 



IS'22.] DIARV AND CORRESPONDENCE. 257 

dreadful consequences, perhaps you ought to bear on your 
mind. We ought ever to keep a jealous eye over our- 
selves. Our Saviour's dying injunction was likewise, 
Watch. Watchfulness and prayer are the christian's vic- 
torious weapons. Our hearts are very deceitful, and we 
are inclined to judge of ourselves in the most favorable 
light ; it is therefore necessary that our daily prayer should 
be — Lord, search our hearts and try our reins, and see 
if there be any evil within us. Self-examination should 
be our daily practice. A christian can lose nothing by 
paying particular attention to his heart, his walk and con- 
versation. But, my dear friend, I would by no means 
discourage you. No — though we had better never pro- 
fess, than profess and then turn from religion — -yet if grace 
is really implanted in the heart, we shall be kept, we shall 
maintain a constant walk with God and persevere, for Je- 
sus will keep his own and none shall be lost. 

I have taken the liberty to address you with freedom, 
though our acquaintance has been short. My time is so 
much taken up that I can write but a few lines. I should 
be highly gratified to receive your sentiments in return. 
May you ever enjoy that peace of mind which passeth 
understanding, until transported from this church militant 
to the church triumphant above the sky. Till then, yours 
in christian love. s. 

June. — Amid a thousand revolving thoughts and cares, 
a thousand delusive, enchanting objects and airy dreams, 
O may my heart, like the undissembling magnet, always 
tend to one grand point ; and if occasionally misdirected 

24* 



258 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [Jimej 

and unfixed, still may it at last get firm footing on the dear - 
centre. There is a beauty, I am more than ever con- 
vinced, and a reality, in religion, which none but they 
who feel it, know. To others it appears foolishness, en- 
thusiasm, and zeal without knowledge. Tliis is not sur- 
prising. Religion, to be understood, must be felt. The 
power of it must be felt in the heart, before any adequate 
or real knowledge of it can be obtained. It is not like a 
system whicli we may adopt and practise, or neglect — 
keep, or relinquish — as we please, after fully understanding 
its meaning. No ; religion takes firm possession of the 
heart, and in so doing unfolds itself within and unavoidably 
regulates our words and actions. A superficial knowledge 
of religion is far from being religion itself. From whence 
proceed all these divisions and disunions which rack our 
convulsed globe? The w^ant of religion. From whejice 
proceed the disputes and controversies of the christian 
w^orld? From whence but the want of religion. It must' 
be this, for certainly the nature of rehgion is to unite, to 
create one heart and one mind in every possessor. It has 
this benign effect wherever it sheds its mildest rays. Re- 
ligion never skilled the tongue in sharp reproofs and quar- 
rels. It never, in angry voice, let loose a fiery zeal to 
vindicate an unimportant tenet. It never breathed de- 
struction, slaughter and death around ; never erected a 
fiery stake, or smiled at a brother's w^oe. The reverse is 
the aspect it ever w^ears. How, then, can those possess 
rehgion, that radiant gem, v/hose delight is to call in ques- 
tion another's belief, and brand their characters wdth in- 
jurious epithets ? How can they inculcate rehgion, w^hose 



1822.1 BIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 259 

practice it is in the pulpit pointedly to condemn their 
neighbors, and set at nought a brother, solely because he 
differs in rehgious sentiments ? It is to be lamented that 
religion is so httle known, so little understood. Cut the 
Scriptures must be fulfilled. Our Saviour foresaw it, and 
prophesied it ; and as he prophesied, so it is. There have 
come deceivers and false prophets, deceiving many. 

Sabbath, P. M— This is the blessed Sabbath. Thou- 
sands are now assembling for worslilp ; but in a heathen 
land they know not a Sabbath. I never walk the streets 
of Boston on the Sabbath, to the house of prayer, with- 
out thinking of heathen lands. As I see the streets crowd- 
ed with passengers, passing and repassing, as they repair 
to their several places of worship, I cannot but think of 
the contrast between this and the benighted places on 
heathen ground. When will the happy time arrive when 
the knowledge of the Lord shall cover the earth, and 
houses for public worship shall be erected in every land ? 
Roll on, glorious period : long wished for era, begin. Shall 
so many prayers be spent in vain ? Will a gracious God 
be deaf to the supplications of his children ? No ; but 
in his own time, the best time, his promise shall be fulfilled, 
and the heathen shall come in. 

TO Miss H. C. OF S. 

Boston, July, 1822. 
I take my pen to answer your letter, which I should 
have done before had not my time been completely occu- 
pied. I regret that you still persist in denying doctrines 
which, could you believe, I can assure you would have no 
tendency to lessen your ideas of God, but rather to exalt 



260 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [Juhj^ 

them. The Scriptures indeed justly declare of our Sa- 
viour, that '^ He came to seek and save that which was 
lost" ; but the number of those which are lost and will 
be rescued by his interposition, cannot be ascertained by 
us. That he will introduce the whole human race to the 
joys and felicities of heaven, I think he has no where in- 
timated in the Bible. That all will finally confess that 
Jesus is the Chris't, will doubtless be the case ; the devils 
can do no less. But all who believe, and'are born of 
God in this day of probation, shall be saved, whatever big- 
otry and opposition may do. Your attempts, my dear 
friend, to prove \hdii forever and eyer and eternal m^j be 
taken in a limited sense, appear strange and inconsistent 
to me ; yet I am aware that your doctrine requires you to 
maintain this, for if you do not, the system totters and falls 
at once. This is all on Vvdiich it is suspended — 1 cannot 
s^y foimded, because anything so shallow cannot need a 
foundation. But let us take the following passages — in 
which, I think, the fallacy of this hmited meaning of these 
words must be evident. '^ The Lord reserveth wrath for his 
enemies, and they shall be in torment forever and ever." 
The Psalmist observes — ^' When all the workers of ini- 
quity do flourish, it is that they shall be destroyed forev- 
er." Our Saviour — ^"^ Depart from me, ye cursed, into 
everlasting fire." Paul- — ^^ Who shall be punished with 
everlasting destruction," &c. Are not these passages ap- 
plicable to all who persist through life in contemning God? 
The parable of the rich n:iati and Lazarus I think can- 
not with propriety be applied to Jews and Gentiles. They 
both died ; Lazarus died and was carried by angels into 



J822.] DIARY AND CORRESPON DRNCE. 261 

Abraham's bosom, and the rich man died and was buried. 
In what respect could the Jews and Gentiles be said to 
die and be buried, and Hve in another world — tlie one ex- 
clusively happy, the other as exclusively miserable ; Abra- 
ham himself denying the latter the smallest rehef, and assur- 
ing them it was utterly out of their power to partake of 
Lazarus's enjoyment. The rich man, finding himself en- 
tirely shut out from happiness, requests that Lazarus might 
be sent to inform his brethren, lest they also should .enter 
that place of torment. This favor could not be granted. 
These two cases, I think, plainly represent the righteous 
and wicked after death. 

I do not agree with you, ray friend, in believing that 
every sinner is or will be brought to the foot of the cross, 
like the returning prodigal. Observation proves the con- . 
trary, as many, die hardened in sin. An awful instance of 
this recently took place not far distant from us. A man, 
while passionately blaspheming the Almighty, in a shock- 
ing manner, was struck dead by lightning. Where was 
the justice of God, if this man, with all his sin and guilt, 
and with horrid oaths on his unhallowed lips, was taken 
into favor ? Was this a character fit for the pure abodes 
of heaven ? What a heaven must that be, where all the 
characters which compose this contentious world shall be 
indiscriminately admitted. If God has declared his will? 
ingness to save all men, he has also declared that he will 
by no means clear the guilty. Place these two passages 
together, and what will be the result ? I am not back-^ 
ward to conclude with you that our God is a God of love 
and mercy, ready and wilhng to save all who come unto 



S62 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN; [^%, 

him. To have our hearts renewed is a sure preparation 
for eternal glory; but because the apostle has declared that 
the natural body shall be changed, we are not to conclude 
the spirits of all shall be likewise changed to holiness, for 
he that is unholy at death it is said must be unholy still. 
To be humble and penitent, like the prodigal son, and par- 
take of a Saviour's righteousness, is the only way to en- 
sure our eternal welfare. To rest solely on Christ is our 
only refuge. St. Paul labored and prayed for Jews and 
Gentiles, and this is an incumbent duty on us. While it 
is our duty to love our neighbors as ourselves, it is our 
duty to pray for their salvation, though we cannot believe 
in the salvation of all. Nor is it a sin thus to pray : if so, 
our Saviour would not have prayed, ^^ Father, if it be possi- 
ble, let this cup pass from me " ; for well he knew that he 
should drink it. Though we cannot thereby purchase 
salvation, 1 would by no means set aside good works or 
practical godliness. Without these we are not children 
of God ; and our Saviour declares — '^ Every tree which 
beareth not good fruit is hewn down and cast into the fire." 
May w^e both search the Scriptures, which contain all 
we can know of divine truth, but be careful to take them 
with a mind open to conviction. I have, according to my 
ability, answered every question you have proposed in 
your letter. The subject on which we write is indeed 
important, and I hope it will be profitable to each of us, 
Yours affectionately. s, 

21. — O when will the time come in which all the con- 
troversies and dissensions which now divide our christian 



1822.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 263 

world shall cease ; when the watchmen shall see eye to 
eye, and all hearts shall be united ? O that the misty er- 
rors of the day might be expelled by the rising of the glo- 
rious Sun of Righteousness. Nought but that radiant light 
which emanates from his countenance — nought but an arm 
like that of Jehovah, and a voice like his — can make this 
darkness flee. O Error, how hast thou gained votaries ! 
How art thou worshipped by thy deluded vassals ! I have, 
in my lonely pilgrimage, when the sky lowered and gath- 
ering clouds -obscured the sun — when the dim ray scarce 
illumined my path, and the rough wild lay before me — I 
have frequently said, with David — ^' My soul is among 
lions, and I lie even among them that are set on fire, even 
the sons of men," &:c. 

It is perhaps a true saying, that where controversy be- 
o;ins, reliu:ion ends. To be relio-ious, is to be assimilated 
to our blessed iNIaster ; and he was ever mild and gentle, 
meek and lowly. These are the traits which shone with 
the most resplendent perspicuity in his character. Are 
these the traits which now mark debates and controver- 
sies ? When they are not, religion cannot be in them. 
Religion, too, teaches to love our neighbor as ourselves; 
in so doing we should treat him as tenderly as we should 
ourselves, pass over his errors ^vith as much lenity, and 
forgive as readily as we could wish to be forgiven. How- 
ever, as it is not often real rehgion that excites disputes and 
controversies, it is seldom this, perhaps, which is the point 
in debate, but more frequently a mistaken rehgion or a 
doctrinal point. 

28. — Another Sabbath smiles upon us. What profi- 



264 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [Aug. 

ciency shall I make on this holy day, and what progress 
Zionward ? Accelerate my speed, heavenly Father, to 
thy holy mount. May I no longer grovel in dust, which 
is so unv/orthy an immortal mind. May I aspire and 
strive assiduously and earnestly for something more. Such 
trash can never feed the mind ; the world, with its gaudy 
shows, is unequal to this task. O for a mind fixed on God 
and eternity. Then I should rise above all these petty 
cares and anxieties which almost continually tease and 
perplex my mind ; I should view the hand of God in all 
these things, and know that all was right. 

Aug, 3. — Returned home last night to spend a few 
weeks. O may the time be profitably spent. But my 
short hfe may not be protracted even until the time ar- 
rives to return. Known only to Omniscience is the im- 
portant hour. Future events are locked from me in in- 
scrutable darkness ; but sufficient for me to know that the 
eternal God reigns over all things. I can v^ith pleasure 
and the most unlimited confidence refer all my concerns 
to his wise disposal. Though human nature is often in- 
clined to murmur, yet my better feelings uniformly tell me 
all is right. I can rely with safety on him ; and O, what 
a prop is this when weakness pervades my frame, when 
dangers press around, and when the scene is dark and 
enemies assail. 

4. — O that, like the holy Evangelist, I might be found 
in the spirit on this sacred day. I should bid earth de- 
part, and not attract my attention or engross my thoughts 
in these devoted hours. Devoted should they be exclu- 
sively to God. 



J8'2?.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 265 

Purify my heart and afFections, I beseech thee, O God, 
and assimilate me to that blessed character which once 
deigned to visit our world. I admire the holy walk, the 
upright conversation, and uniformly pious and perfect life 
of Jesus. I exceedingly admire the mildness and meek- 
ness which he ever manifested. They were not forced 
into one or two acts, and practised an hour or a day, but 
were intermixed with the whole tenor of his life and con- 
versation. I am charmed with his patience, forbearance 
and forgiving disposition, and the accordant precepts he 
inculcated. He was faithful unto death : not like us, un- 
stable mortals, alternately exhibiting the good and the bad. 
Even while we profess to follow his example, how wo- 
fully deficient we are ! When he was reviled, persecuted, 
or wronged, where and in what way did he ever retahate ? 
What ever kindled resentment in his bosom ? Yet though 
we do in many instances submit to persecutions, and re- 
joice in them for his sake, looking with disdain on the mean 
revilings of enemies, does not revenge sometimes find place 
in our bosoms ? Does not anger burn within, which, in- 
stead of banishing at once, we use all our exertions to pal- 
liate ? Do w^e not sometimes strongly desire to return 
an injury? Do we not harbor ill will, and, Hke the rebuked 
disciples, wish to call down fire from heaven to consume 
our enemies ? Or if these are not literally our feelings, yet 
is not the sinful temper the same ? Where is the exist- 
ing being that would even be thought incapable of resent- 
ment, which to all appears plausible in a different name ; 
it is sensibility, it is spirit, void of which, in the general 
estimation what are we ? But our Saviour could well dis- 
25 



266 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [Jug. 

pense with the applauses of the world, and the vain im- 
putations which might in consequence be urged against 
him would have no effect on him. O that I might strive 
to emulate him in all my conduct— strive to copy as far as 
possible all his character, no trait of which strikes me with 
greater force than that which 1 have alluded to. Is not 
peace the aspect religion always wears ? What sang the 
seraphim at the Redeemer's birth ? " Peace on earth, good 
will to men." There is something allurino; in the idea of 
peace. What but a clear conscience should not be sacri- 
ficed on every occasion to maintain it ? Of what should 
we not abridge ourselves to extend it ? Where peace is 
not, happiness cannot be found. How can we Uetter pro- 
mote it than by conquering in our hearts every sentiment 
which has a contrary tendency, and nurturing whatever 
may tend to promote it ? If this were done, how would 
happiness spread around, triumphing over man's evil 
thoughts and war and bloodshed. 

But we may cultivate peace with one another, may fol- 
low the divine injunction to be at peace among ourselves, 
and yet our hearts rise in rebellion against our Maker, 
being at war with heaven and fighting against God. We 
may, too, be pleased with the character of our Saviour, and 
adore him with ardor ; we may endeavor to walk in his 
steps and follow his example, and yet fall short of heaven. 
O Lord, wilt thou search my heart and try my ways, and 
see if there be any evil way in me and lead me in the way 
everlasting. 

6. — What can be more fluctuating than the tide of hu- 
man affairs. That which one moment buoys up our 



1822.1 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 267 

hearts and rejoices them with fond expectations, may the 
next be a worm at the root of all our comforts. Yes, I 
feel this morning a tie unloosed, a void in my heart which 
I yesterday little anticipated. Unexpected and sudden is 
the hasty departure of my dear A. She is summoned 
away to attend a nearer friend in sickness, and left her 
mournino- S. What the result will be, is all unknown to 
mortals. But the Lord reigns. He that sits at the helm 
will safely guide the vessel to the destined port, though 
rocks and quicksands lie between. 

25. — The apostles, the evangelists, and all the prophets, 
were zealous defenders of the truth. They did not hesi- 
tate to hazard their lives for the defence of the gospel. 
To them life was nothing, any further than it could be 
made subservient to this great end. When their useful- 
ness terminated, no object remained desirable to them but 
heaven. How did Moses, the man of God, urge and en- 
treat the revolting Israelites to yield themselves to the 
service of their covenant God. How did Joshua plead 
for God. Samuel lent his aid and exhausted his strength 
in the glorious cause. Job, in affliction, exhibited a no- 
ble pattern of patience and submission to God. The holy 
Psalmist says — " Rivers of water ran down mine eyes, be- 
cause men kept not thy law." The prophet Elijah I am 
led to venerate and admire. Methinks I see him sitting 
in some obscure retirement, his eyes dim with age and 
moistened with tears, while he lifts them in humble ado- 
ration to heaven and mourns the depravity, the prevailing 
profligacy, of the age. Lord, they have killed thy proph- 
ets, digged down thine altars, and none remain to seek 



268 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [July^ 

and serve thee. Must thy name be banished from the 
earth, and Baal receive the homage due to thee ? Shall 
thy great name finally be unknown ? After all the mighty 
deeds thou hast achieved for our fathers, shall their de- 
generate children grow unmindful, and in the worship of 
idols entirely forget thee ? They have done it ; I, only I^ 
am left, and they seek my life. Then who shall declare 
thy name ? When I am gone, who shall remember thee? 
No one ; ignorance has blinded their eyes. Thus weeps, ' 
in bitter anguish, the holy man of God, until his prophet- 
ic eye saw that even then the Lord had in reserve several 
thousands who had not bowed the knee to Baal, and that 
he would advance his cause more and more. Ezra and 
Nehemiah labored arduously in the blessed work, and 
wept over the corrupted multitude of their kindred ; like- 
wise Jeremiah, Isaiah and Ezekiel, honored be their names. 
O that my head were a fountain of tears, and mine eyes 
rivers of water, breathed the mourning prophet. Wo is 
me, my mother, that thou hast borne me a man of sorrows 
and acquainted with grief. Deep-felt anguish rent his 
heart when he beheld the wickedness of his nation, while 
he labored, in defiance of prisons and gates of iron, to 
ameliorate their condition and gain for them the despised 
favor of their Maker. Isaiah held forth his prophetic vis- 
ons to deter from vice and allure into obedience a sinful 
people. All his eloquence was improved in the best 
manner, and his talents devoted to God. These men were 
earnest in their behef and calhng. It was not with the 
cold ceremony and indifferent air which too often mark 
discourses of the present day, that they held up to view 



1823.] JIIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 269 

important truths. Mere frothy words did not constitute 
their sermons ; but sublime truths, eloquently delivered. 
What worthy examples of imitation were they in their 
writings. Every sentence swells with meaning, which does 
not evade the strictest research, and needs not a screen 
from the most scrutinizing eye. 

Perhaps there is not a character drawn in Scripture so 
conspicuously upright and unblameable, amiable and 
pleasing, as the devout prophet Daniel. His natural ge- 
nius and disposition were doubtless conciliatory ; but reli- 
gion heightened every natural grace to a supereminent de- 
gree. It was his enticing outward deportment, that first 
gained him favor in the sight of the king ; but it was 
the favor of an higher than an earthly monarch that ren- 
dered his character truly worthy of affection. God gave 
him knowledo^e and skill in all learnino: and wisdom. 
Before a heathen king and courts of heathen princes, he 
maintained his firm allegiance to his God. 

With what faithfulness did the apostles toil for the pro- 
mulgation of the blessed gospel. It was their meat and 
drink, their incessant labor. O enable me, heavenly Fath- 
er, to follow with greater vigilance the examples of these 
holy men and of my blessed Master. 

Sept, 29. — I can scarcely realize that another summer 
is past. I am sailing down the smooth stream of life in- 
sensibly, yet with inconceivable velocity, and soon shall; 
be landed on the shores of eternity. Am I prepared for 
this great change, which, prepared or not, I must experi- 
ence? " 'Tis a point I long to know." All other knowl- 
edge is trifling compared with this. Do I love the char- 
25* 



270 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [Sej)t 

acter of God ? Do I love Immanuel ? I think I do ; but 
there remains in my heart so much coldness and stupidity, 
so much worldly-mindedness, that I cannot read my title 
clear. O my God, wilt thou dispel the clouds which 
overshadow my mind, and shine within with thine everlast- 
ing rays. 

TO MISS L. S. OF Q. 

Dorchester, Sahbath Mom, Sept. 29, 1822. 
Beloved Friend — On this holy Sabbath, our dear 
brethren and sisters will assemble around the table of the 
Lord. Perhaps my dear Lucy is among them. O may 
it be a precious season, long to be remembered. May 
impressions there be made, never to be effaced. Alas ! the 
world too soon drives from our hearts the remembrance 
of our dying Saviour. Too soon we forget that he groan- 
ed and bled for us, that for us the garden of Gethsemane 
witnessed his bloody sweat and unspeakable agonies. 
What has he not done for us ; and we, how ungrateful ! 
O may we this day give our hearts unreservedly to God, and 
commence with new zeal and assiduity our christian course. 
Now is the only time to labor for him ; and is not the 
first and most important step to be taken with our own 
hearts ? We must set them right, and we shall then act 
aright and render ourselves acceptable to God and useful 
to those around. A christian's outward walk, if corres- 
pondent with his high and holy vocation, speaks volumes. 
It is to be lamented that here w^e are all defective ; but 
this, instead of excusing us, ought to be an additional in- 
citement, for by vigilant exertion we might be outwardly 



1S22,] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 271 

blameless. A perfect character once graced our earili. 
Who can contemplate his life without adoration ? The 
philanthropy and benignity of his heart shone conspicuous 
throughout his life, and his meek and lowly aspect re- 
commended the religion he inculcated. So also might ours 
m an eminent degree. 

You, my dear friend, are about to take a very impor- 
tant step. The Idea of leaving a pleasant home, your 
friends, and the parents and guardians of your youth, 
must, I should think, be painful. But I rejoice that the 
situation you contemplate is so much to your mind, the 
prospects so flattering, and religion the aim of you both. 
The last consideration must conduce greatly to your hap- 
piness. I Congratulate you on your friend being of one 
heart and mind with yourself, that you can walk hand in 
hand toward Zion. Where this is not the case, there must 
of necessity_be a division. You may unite in your sup- 
plications to one Father and Redeemer, in going likewise 
to the table of your Lord, in advancing the Redeemer's 
cause, and be helps and assistants to each other. May 
the union be long and increasingly happy, and beneficial 
to the church of God, until death shall more strongly ce- 
ment and re-unite you in those glorious mansions where 
troubles, the common lot of all, shall find no admittance, 
and tears be wiped away. As various concerns have not 
erased from your memory your worthless friend, 1 feel in- 
clined to hope you will now and then continue to glance a 
thought on her, and remember that your letters, whenever 
they arrive, give her more pleasure than she can describe, 
and are needed in her present lonely situation with re- 



272 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [Sept. 

gard to christian society. My dear sister, I need your 
prayers that I may be useful. Yours, sincerely. 

S. H. C. 

January 1, 1823. — As we meet the congratulations 
and fond wishes of our friends this day, O may we remem- 
ber that our life draws to a close ; that our time is meas- 
ured out by months and years, and that not a small por- 
tion of it is struck off by the closing year. We must be 
up and doing, for death is fast approaching, which pre- 
cedes a night in which no man can work ; and as we this 
day give and receive tokens of friendship, may we recol- 
lect the gift our heavenly Father has bestowed on us, and 
what he still proffers. This is not our rest. Like Noah's 
dove, which, while the waters covered the earth, the 
trees, and the tops of the mountains, was obliged to seek 
other refuo-e, so the christian can find no refuo;e for the 
sole of his foot in terrestrial things; the ark alone can 
afford him shelter and protection. 

15. — This day returned from B. to the place of my 
nativity, \vhich I have not visited for more than eight 
weeks. It is pleasant once more to greet my home, but 
I find I have left some pleasant things behind. O God, 
wilt thou make me, wherever I am, more conformed to 
thee, more like my blessed Master, who went about do- 
ing good. / 

TO MISS H. C. OF S. 

Dorchester^ Jan, 26, 1 823. 
Dear Cousin — The passage with which you head 
your last epistle, I think, may with more propriety be 



1823.] diahy and correspondence. 273 

taken in one of these lights, either that God is willing 
that all men indiscriminately shall be saved and come to 
the knowledge of the truth, or that it is his determinate 
will that all ranks and descriptions of men, Jews and Gen- 
tiles, &c. shall be saved, than that all Jews, a// Gentiles^ 
&:c. will be saved, and afterwards come to the knowledge 
of the truth. If we do not read precisely the words that 
God will have some men to be miserable eternally, w^e 
read that he will in flaming fire take vengeance on them 
that obey not the gospel, who shall be punished with ev- 
erlasting destruction from the presence of the Lord. This 
passage proves clearly to my mind that the punishment of 
the wicked will be eternal ; neither does it contradict any 
other passage in the Bible. God no where expresses a 
desire to make his creatures miserable ; but on the con- 
trary declares plainly that he has no pleasure in the death 
of the wicked, but had rather he would turn from his 
sinful ways and live. So far, you may say, he asserts the 
truth of Universalism ; and in my estimation it is only 
so far. The more I see and know of this doctrine, the 
more I am convinced that it is a system drawn up for and 
exactly suited to the naturally depraved heart. It breaks 
off the restraints which would be felt by the believers in 
a just God who required holiness of heart and life, and it 
dissipates the fears and anxieties to which the guilty might 
be subject did they believe that the unrighteous should 
not inherit the kino-dom of God. We cannot know more 

CD 

of these things than what God has revealed in his sacred 
w^ord ; but, blessed be his name, sufficient is there reveal- 
ed to point out to us the only way of salvation, which is 



S74 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [Jan. 

through faith in a crucified Redeemer. The will of our 
Father, as says the Saviour, is, that whoso belie veth on 
him may have everlasting life. If all do not believe, how 
far is this doctrine in favor of Universalism ? If Christ 
has given himself a ransom for all, yet if all do not accept 
of this purchased salvation, it appears reasonable that this 
must only be a means of adding to their condemnation. 
Many of the passages you quote prove that we refuse that 
of which we are invited to partake ; and this shows how 
culpable we are, and the degradation of our sinful nature. 
Others, beyond doubt, relate to the millennial period, when 
all nations shall w^orship the Lord. They cannot refer 
to the present time, because many are now bending their 
knees to idols and evil spirits. Many of these passages, 
also, are selected from among others which directly coun- 
teract the meaning you annex to them. They do, how- 
ever, as you observe, help support the doctrine of God's 
universal, impartial goodness ; but not that be will suffer 
sinners to persist in their sinful courses and rank them in 
the future world with penitent believers. One of the 
])rophets says— ^^ God is jealous, and the Lord revengeth, 
the Lord revengeth and is furious ; the Lord will take 
vengeance on his adversaries, and he reserveth wrath for 
his enemies. He will not at all acquit the wicked." SoU 
omon — '^ He will laugh in the day of their calamity and 
mock when their fear cometh." Are not these passages 
true ? and why will you try to defend a doctrine which is 
so contrary to them and to the general tenor of the Scrip- 
ture, and which can have no good effect ? Does reason 
qpiintenance it ? I do not think my own depraved reason, 



18^3.1 i>lARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 275 

which has so many times suffered me to err without hesi- 
tation, the apparent deahngs of God with his children here, 
the shining of the sun on the evil and the good, &lc. any- 
thing more than a very faint light ; and these considera- 
tions, with many others which are often adduced, as the 
treatment of a father to his children, or any proceedings 
of human beings, are in my view utterly inadequate to 
Convey correct ideas of the character of an Almighty 
God, the perfection of whose attributes extends beyond 
the conception even of celestial spirits ; neither cen they 
give us any knowledge of our future state of existence. 
All the reasoning which is drawn from sensible objects, 
without the aid of revelation, instead of elucidating these 
subjects, often bewilders the mind, already darkened by 
sin. God's thoughts are not as our thoughts, neither his 
ways as our ways. Neither David, Josiah, nor Peter, nor 
any of the sons of men, could see heaven without a change 
of heart, for we are all sinners before God from our earli- 
est infancy — ^a God who will by no means clear the guil- 
ty ; and an entire renovation, of mind and will is indispen- 
sably necessary to prepare us for that pure abode. 

Where, in the Bible, are the terms eternal, everlasting, 
and forever, applied to things which must have an end ? 
Everlasting, I know, is in a few instances ; but then it is 
to something which has a much longer continuance than 
the life of man. If these phrases, in regard to the pun- 
ishment of the wicked, apply to things which terminate, 
why not in all other cases ? If the punishment of trans- 
gressors is limited in duration, we may certainly conclude 
with equal, and, considering our sins and iniquities, with 



276 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [March, 

more propriety, that the happiness of the righteous will 
likewise cease, and even the duration of the eternal God. 
We may then in every instance follow the dictates of our 
wicked hearts, for to-morrow all existence ceases. Where, 
on such a supposition, is there any incentive to virtue, 
should it clash with our own selfish interests ? and where 
any preventive from vice, provided it adds for the moment 
to our pleasure ? O, if such a doctrine was universally 
believed, to what a state would the world be reduced. 
And your doctrine is on the verge of this, and where will 
you stop short of it ? 

Let us desire and endeavor to promote the salvation of 
all around us, but let us not be unmindful of ourselves ; 
for it is the hope of the righteous only that shall be glad- 
ness, and the expectation of the wicked shall perish. 

I enclose a tract which contains a selection of passages 
from Scripture. Will you please seriously to peruse and 
meditate on them. It contains four strong and well- 
founded arguments, which must be my apology for send- 
ing it. I am confident you cannot oppose four equally 
valid. It is the word of God, which must stand though 
heaven and earth pass away — must stand as long as God 
himself endures. Yours, affectionately. s. h. c. 

March 23. — Another Sabbath morning, with its enhv- 
ening rays, greets my opening eyes. Tired of the cares 
and occupations of this busy world, I have waited its ap- 
proach and now joyfully welcome it. — I am this day de- 
tained from the house of God. To this I have reluctantly 
submitted, as worldly thoughts are so apt to intrude upon 



18Q3.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 277 

the devotions of the day that I feel the need of much 
outward assistance. 

May 7. — Passed a few hours last evening with a christ- 
ian friend — one whom I have every reason to believe is 
sincerely pious, and has been so for four or five years, 
but who has never professed faith in Christ before the 
world and become united to his visible church. I w^as 
rather surprised on being informed of this, but the thought 
rushed into my mind that I had for many years been a 
professor, and yet I have the greatest reason to mourn 
bitterly over myself, to blush and be ashamed, for all my 
coldness and inactivity. Called early in life to walk in 
the ways of religion, indulged with the opportunity of 
forming my sentiments and my judgment in the mould 
of piety, and of growing into maturity in virtue as I grew 
into maturer years, O what could not be expected of me ! 
But, alas ! I have neglected my opportunities and tram- 
pled on my privileges. Blessings were so free and un- 
numbered that I too lightly prized them, and my heart 
has roved from the fountain where I might have drank 
continual supplies. 

*' Alas 1 I've broken many a vow ; 
Alas ! I've lived I know not how, 
And robb'd my soul of rest." 

May 10. — Another birthday has arrived. Tw^enty- 
one years of my life are now completed. How different 
my situation on this anniversary from the last, or indeed 
any former one. A brightness now gilds the hemisphere 
around ; peace and prosperity appear to smile. Yes, with 
respect to myself, only one wish of my heart remains un- 
26 



278 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [Jubj, 

gratified, one hope unrealized — that of more heavenly- 
mindedness, more devotion to God. In my temporal un- 
dertakings I have been more successful than I had ever 
anticipated, more prosperous than I had dared to hope. 
Health, too, has crowned my days, and every desirable 
comfort has blessed me. One joy after another has been 
added, until I have reahzed all I ever could wish. ButO, 
may not this elate me. Clouds may gather, and soon 
darken the scene around. May I be prepared for what- 
ever awaits me, and always submissively say — ''My Fath- 
er, thy will be done." O, my God, I need thy guidance. 
May I ever choose thee for my chief good. 
June 8. Sabbath. — 

" Day of all the week the best, 
Emblem of eternal rest." 

O may I be prepared for this eternal rest, and w^hen sum- 
moned hence sweetly repose in the arms of Jesus. Alas! 
the world has too great a share in my thoughts. This 
vain and transitory w^orld deprives me of heavenly joys. 
July 9. — During the last few months, in which the 
bright sunshine of earthly prosperity has shone around 
me, what effect has been produced on my heart? What 
has been the result there ? Have these gifts led me to the 
bountiful Giver ? Have I received each and every one as 
directly from his hand, and with devout gratitude ? and 
have I realized the obligations under which each one has 
laid me to devote myself renewedly and unreservedly to 
him ? Has his infinite goodness served to wean me from 
the world, and place my affections supremely on heavenly 
thing? ? Alas ! before I go any farther I must stop and 



1823.1 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 279 

plead guilty, guilty altogether. O God, thou knowest 
every snare around me. Wilt thou guard my heart, for 
thou alone hast power. 

Aug, 11. — Oppressed by cares and anxieties of various 
kinds, I drag heavily on. This is a troublesome world. 
Every day's experience tells me here is no true happi- 
ness, and yet every day finds me eager to grasp the 
shadow, and one disappointment ever inspires with new 
ardor to pursue another object which has a like termina- 
tion. O, hardest of all truths to learn and retain, that 
here is nothing to be depended upon. Alas ! wo is 
me that I should profess the religion of the* gospel and 
live as I do. Nine years since, how different were my 
feelings from what they now are. Lord, wilt thou ele- 
vate my affections above these fleeting vanities ; may I 
begin anew to live to thee, and influence those around me 
to do the same. 

TO MISS N. F. OF P. 

Dorchester, August) 182'3. 
I cannot tell you the pleasure I felt, a few days since, at 
the reception of intelligence from you, communicated by 
your mother. I then resolved to comply with her re- 
quest and improve the first opportunity in writing, for 
which purpose I seize a hasty moment this morning. But 
what shall I tell you ? I wish I could give you some good 
information concerning this village and the little circle of 
sisters. I can say there are some favorable indications ; 
but we want that zeal which ought to inspire the heaven- 
born children of God — we want that ardent zeal which at 



280 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [-^Wg*- 

this important season ought to glow in every christian's 
heart. We want something to elevate us from the low 
cares of time and sense, to the superior joys of heavenly 
converse and sweet communion with our God. 1 think 
christians in general are in a very dull, low state. A 
languor almost unparalleled seems to pervade the church, 
all energy to he dormant, every flame of love extinguish- 
ed, and a firm decision on the Lord's side superseded by 
a yielding compliance with the god of this world. We 
appear to be trying to serve God and Mammon. We aim 
to follow the dictates of both, and it is difficult for others 
to determine which master we most reluctantly disobey. 
In such circumstances, how can we progress in a religion 
which explicitly calls us to love neither the world, nor the 
things of the world, and which cannot thrive in the taint- 
ed atmosphere of a worldly mind ? It is impossible. 
When we comply with the world and conform to that, we 
cease to serve our Maker. He is no longer the Regent 
of our hearts, the supreme object of our regard, nor we 
his wilhng subjects. But I forbear. Perhaps I have 
drawn too dark a picture of religion here, owing to the 
excessively cold state of my own heart. But let us remem- 
ber that there is a remedy even for this disease, which per- 
haps always originates in the neglect of the closet. We 
must frequent that retirement, and study the sacred vol- 
ume, or we are decaying christians. " Only while we 
pray, we live." 

Let me tell you, dear N., that in return for this I shall 
expect a long letter from you, full of seasonable advice, 
reproof and counsel. Be plain, and do not fear, for my 



1823.] t>iAllY AND CORRESJPONDENCE. 281 

heart is hard, and nothing but the greatest plainness will 
make any impression there. I need reproof, and wish for 
it until I can feel as I ought. Wishing you happiness far 
superior to any this world can bestow, I remain your sin- 
cere friend. s. H. c. 

Sept, 19. — Passed last evening with a christian friend, 
by whom I was faithfully warned of my situation, and 
entreated to be aware of it and awake from my stupidity. 
I felt thankful that 1 had one friend interested enough in 
my spiritual welfare to reprove me. O that we might be 
faithful to each other, and in every interview may religion 
be the chief subject of conversation. Thus may we ever im- 
prove and edify, and may the blessing of heaven attend us. 

Nov, 30. — More than two months have gone by since 
any record has been made in this journal — this once-loved 
friend and companion. Such a neglect it has never ex- 
perienced before. Notwithstanding all my reluctance, 
time will bear me along with the utmost rapidity from 
my happiest seasons. I bid the days of childhood and 
youth adieu, and without a moment's stay proceed forward 
to — I know^ not what. The future is wrapped in impene- 
trable obscurity. I cannot fathom one event ; but O may 
that God who has condescended to be the guide of my 
childhood and youth, still stretch forth his protecting arm 
and sJiield me from dangers. 

Dec. 2S. — Sitting and reflecting this evening on the 
many, the innumerable blessings which have attended me 
the past season, I was struck with astonishment at my in- 
gratitude, and wondered that every one had not in justice 
26* 



282 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [Jan. 

been removed. What I most deeply lament, is, that these 
blessings, instead of leading me constantly to the all-wise 
Giver, have themselves riveted my affections. Amongst 
the least of my blessings perhaps I should be unjust were 
1 to place a pious and intimate friend. O my God, I need 
thy grace to make me in every respect what I ought to be. 
Dec. 31 . — Another year is about closing forever. Many 
and varied have been its changing scenes. O that 1 could 
look back with heartfelt satisfaction, and know and feel 
that through them all the glory of God had been my chief 
aim. Whatever I do, I am commanded to do all to the 
glory of God. I have given my word to fulfil the in- 
junction, and how culpable am I, if I fail. What is this 
world, with all its store, to a soul blessed with the extatic 
view of joys unfading and eternal ? It dwindles at once 
to nothing. 

^' There 's nothing here deserves our joys, 
There 's nothing like our God. " 

Jan. 1, 1824. — I have this day commenced reading in 
course the Scriptures. O may the blessing of heaven at- 
tend this undertaking. Without this, all our efforts are 
but useless. Another year has commenced. New scenes 
are beginning to arise, and events to transpire, the results 
of which we now have not the least conception. It is 
well that future events are wrapt in obscurity. Could we 
draw back the veil and penetrate futurity, how fatal might 
tho result be to our earthly happiness. An all-wise God 
conceals each coming event from our research ; and in all 
the varying scenes of life, to do our duty and act with 
a view to the glory of God should be our constant aim. 



1824.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 283 

Jan, 21. — O for assistance and direction from heaven. 
That which I have accustomed myself to think lij';ht]y of, 
now assumes a serious aspect. I must decide an impor- 
tant question, important in the extreme. My future happi- 
ness is interested in this decision. Without divine aid I 
shall err. And O for a title to mansions in the skies. 
What but this can afford real joy ? Kind friends may al- 
leviate pains and sorrows ; but they cannot, no, they 
cannot accompany us through the dark valley of the shad- 
ow of death. It is here we must quit them all. But O 
God, wilt thou then be my conductor. 

Jan, 28. — x4.nother w^eek is closing. Time, divided 
into years and months and weeks, steals away insensibly. 
Thus the hour hastens when its w^heels shall cease their 
circles forever, and revolving years and months come to a 
long — long period. Thousands of them have rolled in- 
cessantly on. Nations have been born, have lived and 
acted their part in the busy scenes, decayed, died, and 
left no trace behind. Man has Deen compared to a shad- 
ow, passing swiftly over the plain and seen no more; and 
to look back thousands of years, and think of the mil- 
lions and millions of beings that have existed and gone to 
their long home, what more does life appear ? and what 
more is our own life ? But, blessed be God for the sa- 
cred Scriptures. But for these, we might have confined 
our views entirely to this short hfe ; we should have kno\vn 
no other joy, no other hope, than what the uncertain scenes 
of earth afford — ^joys and hopes, which, how^ever dear, 
we might in the height of our enjoyment be snatched 
from, and consigned to an uncertain futurity or total anni- 



284 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN, [Fch. 

hilatlon. Blessed be God for the Scriptures ; for the 
description contained in thenG of the creation of this globe, 
and the formation of human beings, with their interest- 
ing history through a series of years. And blessed be his 
name for an account of his own perfect c'naracter, his deal- 
ings with mankind in every age, and his just requirements 
of them ; and forever blessed for the news of salvation 
held forth to us in those holy writings, the knowledge of 
the unparalleled mercy of God in offering his Son to suf- 
fer in our stead, and thus providing eternal blessedness for 
us. O what a rich treasure is his Holy Word ! But how 
necessary is it that we should have the eyes of our spir- 
itual understanding enhghtened from above to discern the 
hidden truths of Holy Writ. So prone are we to err, that 
perhaps it is not unfrequently the case that w^e form our 
opinion and endeavor to bring the Scriptures to a compli- 
ance, instead of yielding to them. 

Feb. 26. — Memory recurs to years when I scarcely 
thought of passing a day without transmitting to waiting 
my feelings, hopes and views. But those years are past ; 
the fugitive moments refused to stay. Other cares and 
hopes have engrossed me. The world has called me 
forth from my solitude and retirement, and my avoca- 
tions have placed me in a comparative vortex. What 
cause of gratitude have I to that Being who called me, as 
I humbly trust, at an early period of life to a knowledge 
of the superiority of religion. The more 1 am among 
the gay and fashionable, and the votaries of pleasure, the 
more cause I feel for thankfulness to God for calling me 
early to choose superior joys. The more 1 see and hear. 



1824.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 285 

the more am 1 convinced that it is nothing but religion 
that can bestow solid happiness. How much misery, mor- 
tification, disappointment, and the workings of the cor- 
roding demon, envy, incessantly follow the worldling ! 
Whatever may be the advantages of riches, splendor, and 
all earthly good, the mind that soars not above them must 
feel an aching void, and fall short of the sought-for treas- 
ure, happiness. But I would defy any one to produce 
one humble christian, who has for years walked with God, 
who lives near the throne of grace, and has his conversa- 
tion in heaven, who is truly unhappy, though he may 
labor from day to day to earn his scanty meals, and feel 
in every sense of the word '^ the wants that pinch the 
poor." What a source of happiness he has within. It 
must be so, for his body is the temple of the Holy Ghost. 
If a burden of anxiety arising from accumulating woes 
and darkness around, do corrode, his remedy, his sure 
remedy, is before him. To that, at any hour, he may 
apply, and from the throne of grace he can return a hap- 
py man. Ah, enviable lot! Let me die the death of the 
righteous, and let my last end be like his. And who 
would hesitate to adopt this petition ? All acknowledge 
the righteous enviable in death. O, I would not be with' 
out the good man's comfort when I experience this trying 
hour, for all this world can bestow. At this awful crisis, 
on what shall the departing soul lean for support, if an 
interest in Christ is not secured. Where shall it fly for 
refuge, if not to the ark of safety ; and where shall it 
seek shelter from impending wrath, if not hid under the 
Rock of Ai^es? 



296 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [My, 

Aug. 1. — Jesus went about doing good, and when he 
w^as reviled, reviled not again, but forgave his enemies. 
Were this spirit once to become universal, what a happy- 
world would this be. All these animosities and discords, 
these divisions and back-bitings, would be done away, and 
peace and joy supply their places. I think there is no 
duty in life to whicli we should devote ourselves with 
more ardor and zeal, than this habit of making peace, 
and forgiving injuries ; and no disposition we should be 
so anxious to cultivate, as one on which hatred and re- 
venge can make no rude impression, and where anger and 
resentment find no welcome. The moral virtues are of- 
ten too much neglected, even among christians ; and while 
they believe in an entire renovation of heart, they some- 
times forget that the good seed, though sown, requires 
unremitted attention. An upright walk and conversation, 
evincing the meek and lowly, the benevolent, charitable, 
and affectionate spirit of the great Founder of Christian- 
ity, will conciliate the love of those around them more 
than all the noise of disputation and reproach. Con- 
sistency is admirable to every candid observer, and may 
kind heaven confer on all of us a large portion of the 
spirit of the gospel, evincing love and good will to all 
mankind. 

Jaly 3, 1825. Sabbath, P. M. — Have attended public 
worship this forenoon, and sitten down at the table of the 
Lord — a privilege 1 have not been indulged with for a 
long time. Many considerations combine to render this 
season peculiarly solemn to me. Under present circum- 
stances, it is the last communion Sabbalh I shall ever 



1825.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 287 

spend. Before another. Providence will have ordered a 
different lot for me. O God, let thy presence go w ilh me. 

July 10. — This is an important era to me. From this 
day will be dated new cares and troubles, new pleasures 
and comforts. Will not He who has deigned to bless, still 
continue to bless us, still make us happy. 

Milton, Aug, 7. — Have this day sitten down and com- 
muned w^ith the church in this place. It is an unspeak- 
able privilege to be blessed with such a meeting — a privi- 
lege I am far from deserving. Forgive, O God, all my 
sins ; foro-ive the sin of ingratitude aoainst thee. I am the 
recipient of innumerable blessings, each of which demands 
a song of praise. 

20. — This afternoon are deposited in the narrow house 
the remains of an intimate friend and cousin, Miss H. C. 
of S. She, who less than a year since was apparently 
the picture of health, has received and obeyed the solemn 
summons. How uncertain is life, health, and all earthly 
things. Our correspondence has ceased forever. The 
long discussions respecting a future state of existence have 
come to an end, and she now possesses all the knowledge 
we labored for. May this event be a successful call to 
me to be ready to meet my last change. 

TO A BROTHER IN B. 

Milton, Jlug.2Q,\^'25. 

Dear Brother — Inclination urges the improvement 

of the first opportunity to acknowledge the receipt of 

your very welcome letter. I rejoice that you have not 

forgotten me, and gladly enter into a correspondence. 



288 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [*^Ug. 

Of letter writing I have ever entertained the highest opin- 
ion. Of its usefulness, if rightly conducted, I am fully 
convinced. To write, is almost the first art we are taught 
in childhood ; a knowledge easily attained, but of what 
vast importance. Who has not learned hov/ precious 
this method of communication between absent friends ? 

The country here is pleasant, particularly at this sea- 
son of the year. Were you seated with me, you would 
all around have a near view of trees bending down with 
fruit — of corn-fields, where the golden ears are fast rip- 
ening—all promising the husbandman a rich reward for 
his toils. A little farther are extensive fields and mead- 
ows, which have yielded in part their verdant covering 
and richly stored the neighboring barns. Still farther, 
hills and trees, with their foliage, bound the prospect ; 
and though rude and rouo;h, can boast this strikino; trait 
peculiar to nature's self, they will bear minute examina- 
tion, and where all appears barren, homely and wild, there 
may be culled many a flower, may be observed the most 
exact symmetry, and read many an useful lesson. I am 
led to think that nature is seldom unpleasing. In all her 
seasons and works she opens new beauties, brings new 
delights, and yields charms unknown before. In other 
words, I am led to think that whatever comes from the 
forming hand of our Maker, without the spoiling hand 
of man, must be beautiful; that in all his works, in ev- 
ery season, there is something charming. Surely the 
Creator of all these things must be divine. 

You must never be afraid of writing too long a letter, 
nor of telling me too much. Thous^h I often sit down 



1825.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 289 

here in my retirement, saying to myself — What care I 
what the busy world is about? still anything you will tell 
me I know will be interesting. Yours, &lc. s« 

Sept. 24. — I have this afternoon been looking over the 
tract entitled, "The Shepherd of Salisbury Plain." I 
have ever admired this interesting narrative. Content- 
ment and happiness are here exemplified in the ixHDSt ab- 
ject poverty, such poverty as is very common in other 
t^ountries ; but how few of these sufferers, as we should 
here call them, evince the happiness of this poor Shep- 
herd. Tliis was the effect of his religion, a true rehgion, 
which if enjoyed can always make its possessor happy. 

Oct. 9.— Death makes havoc in families and neigh- 
borhoods, taking the old and the young, the parent and 
the child. O may I be prepared for the solemn hour, 
which I know hastens on apace. I must soon bid adieu 
to all the scenes of eaitb, and follow my kindred who 
have gone before to their eternal homes. This pleasant 
and retired spot is not an abiding place. These woods will 
continue to spread their foliage, and the feathered choir to 
chant their songs in the branches, when they can bless 
my eyes and ears no more. Hills will rise on every side 
around this our Vale of Content, w^hen I am laid beneath 
the clods. Friendship and Love, endearing names, sources 
of the greatest happiness of earth, may exist, but 1 shall 
Teel their earthly influence no longer. O may I be 
prepared for this ej^change of worlds. Then shall I lay 
dowB at night unconcerned whether I awake in this world 
or another. Happy security. 
21 



290 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [Dec. 

December 3. — The past has been the most marked 
year of my life. Half of it was spent at home, under 
the paternal roof, where many and many a happy day 
have been enjoyed. To that loved spot my mind will 
oft recur, and find a pleasure in pronouncing these simple 
words — My Home. The little mount which near by 
commands an extensive view of the country, of the dis- 
tant hills and forests, the extended bay with its isles, and 
the neighboring city, will ever be a dear spot to memory ; 
nor shall I, while reflecting on all these scenes of youth 
and of youthful hilarity, forget my kind and indulgent 
parents and other relatives, all intimately connected with 
home. To think that this home is no more to be the 
place of my abode, has sometimes been painful. Still I 
cannot say I regret the change. No — my expectations have 
thus far been more than realized. Providence has smiled 
upon us, and, I have often thought, has granted every- 
thing heart could wish. Our station is humble ; no trap- 
pings of splendor and magnificence mark our dwelling ; no 
pomp and show present themselves within. A thousand 
welcome and unwelcome visiters do not crowd upon us. 
Riches are not ours, and I have often thought this a hap- 
piness. My heart ever sought retirement and obscurity, 
hut with riches these are seldom enjoyed. 

Dec. 11. — I have lately been much interested in H. 
X. White's writings. They have beauties I never knew 
of before. He evinces more piety and devotedness to 
religion than I was aware of. It was indeed a dark Prov- 
idence which placed him in a situation to struggle with so 
much poverty, to be the subject of so much pain and 



1815.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 291 

anxiety to himself and others, and then, when his way 
was just opened before him, when he could look back on 
the thorny road he had traversed, and with joy say it was 
all over, and pleasing prospects were before him, to re- 
move him hence forever and blast the hopes of his friends. 
But there was a design in this. These clouds do not 
form in vain ; though dark and discouraging, they often 
let fall a shower of blessings on this guilty world, extend- 
ing far and wide. His writings are excellent. They are 
writings, too, which probably would have been lost had he 
hved. We may perhaps say that had he been spared, the 
superior productions of such a pen would not have failed 
of reaching the press and the public eye. This seems 
probable ; and it is probable, too, that he would have 
greatly improved both in poetry and prose. But we can- 
not penetrate futurity. We read that the righteous are 
taken away from the evil to come. Perhaps nothing is 
more dangerous than fame. Of this Henry would have 
had a full share ; and where, where might it have borne 
him? Think of the unfortunate Dodd. Henry's career 
terminated honorably ; he was summoned from a world 
of sorrows to that rest which is reserved for all the chil- 
dren of God. His weary feet have greeted that peaceful 
inn, and his aching head reclines on that quiet bed. 

Jan. 21, 1826. — This is the Sabbath. Thousands are 
at this moment assembling at places consecrated to the 
special worship of God. By what motives many of them 
are actuated, is known only to God and their own hearts. 
But I imagine it is a common error to repair to those sa- 
cred edifices without once thinking for what purpose w^ 



292 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [-^W^- 

go. It is the force of custom that carries many thither. 
Still, whether custom impel, or principle, or we are sen- 
able of being carried there by any unlawful motive, it is 
the place where we ought punctually to be found. God's 
house, the holy sanctuary, is the place on every Sabbath 
for every individual who is able to be there. If moved 
by wrong motives in repairing thither, it is our hidispensa- 
ble duty to correct them, rather than on that account to 
forsake the holy place. 

TO MISS E. T. OF W. 

Milton, August 12, 1826. 

Esteemed Friend — I sit down this evening with the 
intention of devoting a few mom.ents to you ; and it is 
only the idea that I am incapable of writing anything 
which w^ill give you pleasure, and a fear that you will 
consider it an intrusion, which makes me reluctant in yield- 
ing to my desire to write you. But I trust you will for- 
give imperfections. 

I have recently received information concerning you 
which gave me the greatest pleasure. It seems you 
have indeed found the pearl of great price, the hidden 
treasure, which they who part with all they have to buy, 
buy cheaply, and are gainers indeed. You have proba- 
bly ere this come forward before a gainsaying world 
and professed yourself decidedly on the Lord's side. I 
rejoice with you, my dear friend, heartily rejoice, and con- 
gratulate you in your happy choice of Christ for your 
portion ; for I know that your happiness is what the world 
can neither give nor take away, that it springs from a 



1S26,] 



DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 293 



source infinite and inexhaustible. If I am not greatly de- 
ceived, I have experienced this happiness in some degree; 
and whenever I have failed of enjoying it, I could trace 
the cause to a neglect of closet duties. Here declension 
begins, and here alone the remedy must be brought to 
operate. How strongly our Saviour enjoined prayer on 
his disciples — even praying always, and has set us the 
example in frequently retiring himself; and when his last 
painful hours had arrived, and every friend was about to 
forsake him, he had recourse only to prayer ; and at last, 
in that dread hour when prayers for himself could avail 
no more — w4ien expiring nature was about to heave its 
last sigh — he still forgot not to pray with his latest breath, 
uttering a fervent petition for his enemies. 

After a profession of religion, it is important that we 
evince to those around us, by an upright walk and con- 
versation, our sincerity. The eyes of the world are upon 
us — an opposing, an uncharitable world. You have com- 
menced a warfare. If a living christian, you must be a 
fighting one ; beset behind and before with enemies, there 
can be but little rest. We must keep near to our great 
Leader ; here alone is safety. He knows all the road w^e 
have to tread, and is willing, if we w^ill but follow him, to 
be our conductor. He will be all in all to us. Let us 
rely solely on him, keep near to him, and we shall come 
off conquerors, and more than conquerors. O may this 
be our happy lot. May all our pains and toils terminate 
in unbounded joy; and then we shall never regret our 
privations here, but only wish we could have had the hon- 
or of suffering more for him who has done so much for us. 
27* 



294 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [Jpril, 

I Wish you would favor us with an account of your re- 
ligious experience, and of your present views and feel- 
ings, s. H. T. 

April 17, 1S27. — I have just finished reading the Me- 
moirs of Mrs. Huntington, in which I have been for a 
fortnight engaged. I have, through the book, entered in- 
to all her feelinors, and realized all her sufFerino;s, O that 
like her I could hve for God. But, alas ! my wicked, 
wicked heart. Alas ! my mercies abused, privileges 
slighted, all my best gifts perverted. What have I done? 
1 have struggled through all these years, and am now 
without one good thing in me. The little time I have to 
live, may I live to the glory of God ; may I be weaned 
from the world, and be ready, whenever I receive the 
summons, to enter into the joy of my Lord. 

20. — This is a delightful season of the year. The rough 
blasts and fierce driving storms of winter give way to the 
genial rays of the sun, and all nature seems to rejoice. 
Fields and trees are fast clothing themselves with ver- 
dure, and street melody fills the air. The streams are 
loosened from their icy fetters, and sparkle in the sun- 
beams as they pursue their wonted courses. The kind 
Author of our being is not forgetful to provide for us, and 
regularly in their seasons brings seed time and harvest, 
summer and winter, and supplies all our wants. The earth 
yields a sufficiency both for man and beast, without ces- 
sation, from year to year. And it is the productions of 
the earth, too, which clothe our bodies. It is likewise a 
truth that we also are formed of dust, and that unto dust 



I8Q7.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 295 

we must return. We must yield our spirits to him who 
created them, and our bodies to minole attain with their 
kindred dust, until the morning of the resurrection, when 
the same voice which said to Lazarus, '' Come forth," 
will also summon us from our slumbers, and body and 
spirit shall be re-united and spend an eternity where there 
shall be no more change. O may it be a happy eternity 
in that blessed world where no sidiino: nor sorrow shall 
ever come, and where the inhabitants shall never say, '' I 
am sick. " 

Jane, 17. — I once more take my pen, perhaps to write 
a farewell to this my journal and to the world. My health 
and life are precarious ; probably before I write here 
again the important decision will be made whether I shall 
survive the trying hour which awaits me. I cannot real- 
ize things as I wish with regard to all-important concerns, 
though so momentous. I cannot realize as I wish w^hat 
it is to quit the world. O my God, my waiting eyes are 
to thee. Prepare me, I beseech thee, for whatever thou 
art preparing for me, whether life or death. Notwith- 
standing all the vileness and wickedness of my heart and 
life, I do indulge the hope that I have been born againv 
It has ever been my constant and most earnest prayer^ 
that if deceived, I might be convinced of it before it was 
too late ; and shall I not be ? Alas ! 1 have not felt and 
acted as becomes a christian. I have daily and hourly 
erred. But I trust in the merits of him who died for the 
chief of sinners. For the sake of a better world 1 feel 
willing to leave all things here. O may I there be met 
b all my dear friends. 



296 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [Oct 

I think I will not destroy these writings, though I should 
not like to have them much exposed. I have spent ma- 
ny happy hours in penning them, perhaps the most really 
happy of my Hfe ; but should they be deemed entirely 
unimportant by those in whose hands they may be left, I 
wish they may be destroyed. And now, perhaps I have 
done with all earthly concerns. Perhaps the hand which 
now pens, and the head which dictates, are soon to be 
consigned by friends to the grave. Friends, weep not for 
me. Our heavenly Father has sufficient reasons for this 
removal. 

Oct, — God has restored me once more to health. What 
has he not done for me ? Early in August our dear little 
son was born, and last Sabbath we gave him up to the 
Lord in baptism. I had, ever since his birth, contem- 
plated this with a great degree of pleasure. I thought it 
would be our duty and privilege to bring him up for God, 
should our lives be spared ; and as we could as yet give 
him no instruction, to be permitted to lay such a founda- 
tion as this was peculiarly gratifying. I thought I never 
went to the house of God with more delight. Previous 
to my illness, my mind, with respect to death, was gen- 
erally calm and resigned. Within the six weeks imme- 
diately preceding, Solitude Sweetened was my constant 
companion. Daily I perused and enjoyed that book. 

Alas ! returning health returns me to the world. I 
cling to it too much, far too much. O my God, draw my 
affections hence. 



18C7.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 297 

TO MISS E. T. OF W. 

Milton, January 4, 1828. 
Dear Cousin — Excuse my long neglect of writing 
to you. Gladly would I continue a correspondence which 
I think may be of so much benefit to me, though con- 
scious that I can contribute but little towards rendering it 
interesting to yourself. I wish to thank you for the pleas- 
ing account you gave me of the exercises of your mind. 
I congratulate you, for your happiness must be very great 
in seeing your brother and sisters giving up the world 
for the one thing needful ; and you have also seen many 
others around you giving themselves up to the Lord in an 
everlasting covenant. There has also been some unusual 
attention to religion in Milton, and quite a revival in 
Dorchester. Is this not a day of revivals ? It is indeed 
an interesting period — a day of great exertions in every 
christian enterprise. What would our pious forefathers 
have thought, could they have seen all that is now go- 
ing on in their once lonely asylum ? Should not every 
christian be awake and engaged in the great work ? Can 
any one look on and still slumber? O we should each, 
in some humble measure, striv^e to aid the Redeemer's 
cause. But the work will go on. If we slumber or 
stand all the day idle, we shall manifest our base ingrati- 
tude to him who has condescended to place us in his 
vineyard where so much is to be done; we shall lose 
all that unspeakable happiness which others feel who are 
active laborers, and we shall have no '' Well done good 
and faithful servant " pronounced to us by our blessed 
Master ; still the work will not stop for our tardy steps, 



298 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [Jan, 

To the throne of Jehovah all shall finally bow the knee ; 
and is not the glorious day beginning to dawn upon us? 
Its beams are already beginning to irradiate the earth ; 
but who can conceiv^e of the splendor of its mid-day 
glory ? But then to us will be the night in which we 
cannot work. 

It is now the commencement of another year. I wish 
you, my friend, a happy new year. Yet I know that 
while you remain here, you, too, must taste the bitter cup. 
I know that cares and anxieties must find a place in your 
heart, and at times your tears, as well as those of others, 
must flow. From that fatal day in which Adam fell from 
innocence, mankind have been doomed to eat their bread 
in sorrow; the earth was then cursed, and has ever since 
yielded thorns and briars, and we must reap the unsavory 
fruits of sin. But this is not our home. All the vary- 
ing scenes of another year have closed upon us j and of 
all the eventful scenes of our life, the last will soon ter- 
minate, and we be done with time forever. What, my 
friend, O what will be the scenes which shall then open to 
our view ? As yet, on this terrestrial ball we are liv- 
ing actors, instead of lying unconsciously beneath its sur- 
face : but the destroying angel is on his way, and the 
day and hour will arrive when our bodies, like those of 
our friends, must be silently borne to the receptacle of 
the sleeping dead, and the loud trump calling to judgment 
shall be the first sound which shall penetrate our ears and 
awake us from that heavy slumber. O, of that solemn, 
dreadful hour, how faint .are our conceptions. Then shall 
be uttered, by our Judge, the irrevocable decree for eter- 



1828.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. ^99 

nity. No more inquiry then whether we are fit to die, 
and whether heaven shall be our home. No more inqui- 
ry then how to gain the most of this world's substance — 
for this earth and all its dear-bought treasures are con- 
signed to the devouring element. Emulation and ambi- 
tion, high hopes, and their fruit disappointment — all — all 
in the general conflagration are dissolved and exist no 
more. I anticipate our greatest astonishment will be, if 
astonishment there is in another world, that we fed on 
these things so much when we had a heaven to gain or 
lose for eternity. O, on that day may we hear the wel- 
come plaudit from our Judge, and then spend an eternity 
in the company of saints and angels, and above all in the 
presence of him who when on earth spake as never man 
spake. Yours. s. h. t. 

TO A BROTHER IN B. 

Milton, March, 1828. 
Dear Brother — In the still and quiet circle in which 
I move, 1 see and hear but little worth communicating. 
No political or religious information of importance reaches 
my ears, but what has probably become old to you. Yet 
in the calm tranquillity of a country life are tasted the pur- 
est pleasures. Sohtude is sweet, if we have one friend to 
whom we can make the observation. Cowper, with 
whose writings you are doubtless familiar, thus beautifully 
describes this retirement : 

" 'Tis pleasant through the loop-holes of retreat 
To peep at such a world; to see the stir 
Of the great Babel, and not feel the crowd ; 
To hear the roar she sends through ttll her gates, 



300 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [Marshy 

At a safe distance, where the dyin^ sound 
Falls a soft murmur on th' uninjured ear> 

TJie sound of war 
Hns lost its terrors ere it reaches me-^ 
Grieves, but alarms me not." 

This calmness and tranquillity is certainly more favor* 
nble to piety than the proceedings of your noisy and bust- 
ling metropolis. But even to us, secluded as we are, the 
world holds forth its allurements, and I have often thought^ 
were it not for the Sabbath, engaged as we are in the 
world, striving to obtain its unsatisfying treasures, which 
only increase a thirst for more, and perish with the using, 
we, as well as those who are encompassed with stronger 
temptations, should almost forget our duty either to God 
or man. Blessed be his holy name for the institution of 
this holy day, on which I am now writing. On this 
day our beloved pastor leads his little flock to the conse- 
crated place, there to commend them to God and offer 
prayers in language peculiarly his own ; there not a case 
lies unregarded, not a want is forgotten, and there he faith- 
fully dispenses the word of life. In a minister I think we 
are highly blessed. You, too, sit under the sound of the 
gospel. O may it not sound to us in vain ; without effect, 
it cannot be. No, when we shall be summoned to give 
an account of our stewardship, unless we have improved 
our privileges they will add to our condemnation. This 
is a day of Bible and Missionary Societies, of Sabbath 
Schools, of religious publications, of Temperance Societies, 
and, 1 might add, of associations of all kinds for amelio- 
rating the condition of the world. Public feeling is ex- 
cited towards almost every benevolent object, and to a 



1828.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 301 

gieat degree. How much has been done since our ear- 
liest recollection ; and how much, how very much, has 
been done in one year. This work has not begun to 
stop. No, since its first commencement it has been known 
only to increase ; and nothing, we may believe, will retard 
its progress, until the world is converted to God. * * ^ =^ 
Have you been successful enough to read all the un- 
connected sentences with which I have filled this sheet ? 
If so, you will doubtless be glad to stop. s. h. t. 

TO MISS M. T. OF W. 

Milton^ September, 1829. 
Dear Cousin — I have attended divine service this 
forenoon and heard our own dear minister discourse from 
these words — " Ye did run well, who did hinder you ? '' 
My thoughts immediately recurred to past years and past 
experience. And why am I not now as happy in the 
closet, as interested in the house of God, and as engaged 
in his blessed cause, as I was then ? Alas ! it is this wick- 
ed heart, which has much corruption remaining. This 
legion of sins within, and the tempter with his thousand 
snares without, do sometimes effectually draw my mind 
from everything that is good or worthy a mortal's pur- 
suit. The text above may, too, be applied to some of 
my early christian friends, some who set out with me in 
the christian course, with much zeal and warm devotion 
to God. Why is their progress retarded, and why have 
they grown cold in so good a cause ? Doubtless the 
temptations of the world overcame them, too, when they 
forgot, or neglected to look to Jesus for help. Alas ! it 
28 



302 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [Sept. 

is lamentable that this is the case with so many — that so 
many lose their first love. I trust this will not be your 
lot, but that you will continue to fight and to resist evil. 
Many, very many hours have been given us for im- 
provement, and have passed almost firom our recollec- 
tion. But our privileges shall yet again be brought be- 
fore us. In the great archives of eternity they stand 
awaiting the hour of our final retribution, to appear either 
for or against us. "A moment, how soon it is flown;" 
and yet how vast its import. Are we living to God in 
these short moments of our hves ? Or are they flying 
away to be witnesses against us when our condemned 
souls must plead in vain for a moment to repent in ? O 
that we realized as we ought the importance of being con- 
stantly engaged in the service of him who certainly has 
not made us in vain. Some spot in this spacious vine- 
yard is assigned each of us for labor. If not a conspicu- 
ous spot, then humble let it be, as our part in it, if 
properly performed, will not fail to be acceptable to our 
Lord and Master. Let us not retire and say there is 
nothing to do. The poor widow who had only two mites 
to cast into the treasury, did not hesitate to come with the 
rich who of their abundance were giving much, though 
she knew hers was comparatively a paltry sum : and she 
received the commendation of her Lord — a rich reward 
indeed. I recollect hearing a minister relate from the 
pulpit, an interesting account of a poor woman (I believe 
dependent on charity) who was for a long time confined 
to her bed by infirmity ; but she was pious, and she felt 
very anxious to do something to promote the Redeemer's 



1829.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 305 

kingdom. What could she do ? This was the inquiry- 
she made. She could not enter into any active service in 
the cause. This she was entirely disabled from. She 
could not give anything, for she was unable to support 
herself. What, then, could she do? Much. Yes, no 
child of God was ever denied by him the privilege of 
doing much in his glorious cause. She could do much 
and she sought and found the way, and gave herself up 
to prayer. This was all she could do, and this was doubt- 
less a delightful employment and acceptable to God. Let 
us go and do likewise ; and may it never be said of us 
that we performed no service, gave no alms, neither did 
we pray. 

But while I am writing thus to you, you are probably 
actively engaged. Then I hope you will go on and do 
more and more, for you cannot do ftoo much ; you cannot 
feel too much interested in our Saviour's cause ; and should 
you render up yourself and all you have to this blessed 
work, you will never repent it. We have many calls 
from the grave to be up and doing ; for in such an hour 
as we think not, the Son of Man cometh. Our frail bod- 
ies must die, must crumble to dust from which they were 
formed, and feed the reptiles of the earth ; but this im- 
mortal part within shall live when earthly bodies are no 
more ; it shall live in heaven or hell, when even earth it- 
self, with all that is therein, shall be burned. O how im- 
portant that we should attend to the chief concern. Riches 
and honors, what are they but trifles which cannot bene-^ 
fit the immortal mind ? Palaces and costly apparel must 
grow old and decay, and leave the soul still to be provided 



304 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [Dec. 

for. O may our souls be prepared for those realms of 
blisSj where ample provision is made. Then can we be- 
hold earthly treasures vanish without a sigh ; then may 
the last trump pronounce that even time itself shall be no 
more, and we shall not regret the loss, for eternity is ours, 
heaven is ours, and we have nothing to fear. Tempta- 
tion, sin and sorrow shall never enter there. There friends 
shall never part, for death, the fearful tyrant, shall never 
enter that blessed abode on his craael messages. There 
shall we be like our God. O may we both be brought 
into the right path, and be found faithful. May the God 
of mercy, for his dear Son's sake, purify us and fit us for 
that bright abode, which hath no need of the sun nor of 
the moon. I will close, for I know that with so many im« 
perfections you are sufficiently wearied. 

Yours, &:c. s. h. t. 

TO A BROTHER IN B. 

Milton, December, 1829. 

Dear Brother — In order to convince you that your 
letter was truly welcome and induce you if possible to 
write again soon, I improve the first opportunity of writ- 
ing to you. *" ^ ^ # # # 

It is very pleasing to review the scenes of past years. 
Almost all our bliss in this world of trial is in anticipation 
and retrospection; if we enjoy the present moment at all, 
it is because it is connected with the past or future. If 
we enjoy any present possession, is it not because we 
have labored to acquire it, or expect from it some future 
benefit ? But chiefly the happiness we may feel in look- 



1829.1 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 305 

ing back upon the past or forward to the future, is because 
in these exercises of the mind we do not mingle the 
troubles always attendant on earthly good. The hours 
of my childhood appear to be happy, unmixed with care 
and trouble. I beheve the happiest I can recollect were 
spent in the company of a christian female friend ; but I 
remember with dearly cherished dehght many little social 
family circles of ours. 

We have always need to be anxious for ourselves ; 
temptations, ere we are aware, are leading us astray, and 
many a person has been led to do what once they looked 
upon with horror and believed themselves incapable of. 
We know not our own weakness ; we know not what 
wicked hearts we have, and how great crimes, if left to 
ourselves, we should be guilty of. You will perhaps think , 
me gloomy again ; but is not everything connected with 
a sinner gloomy to think of? His heart is set in him to 
do evil, and every imagination of his heart is only evil 
continually, saith Scripture. For his sake the ground he 
treads on is cursed. The condemnation of eternal misery 
is upon him. And can he be cheerful ? Is it consistent 
for him to devote his hours to mirth when destruction is 
before him ? But in view of the Saviour's all-atoning 
blood, which cleanseth from sin, the gloom departs. This 
Wonderful Counsellor, Everlasting Father, Mighty God, 
and Prince of Peace, as the Scripture designates him ; 
this atoning sacrifice, and this alone, can make us consis- 
tently happy or cheerful beings. Washed in his blood 
from the pollution of sin, we may look up and say, with 
the apostle — "All things are ours, and we are Christ's, 
28=* 



306 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [Jan. 

and Christ is God's." Then may we go on our way re- 
joicing, for heaven will be our eternal home. A few more 
days of trial, and we shall be released, never to sigh 
or sorrow more, and, above all, never to sin. O how im- 
portant that the eternity we are to spend should be in 
that heaven which is now proffered us, at the right hand 
of him who has died for our redemption. There may 
we meet and dwell through endless ages. 

Yours, &;c. s. h. t. 

Ta A SISTER IN D. 

Milton, January, 1*831. 

Dear Sister — As I have been repeatedly disappoint- 
ed in not visiting you, I take an opportunity to let you 
know that among my own cares and occupations I am 
certainly not unmindful of home and its invalid inmates, 
and wish to see you all very much. * ^ * 

The Winter blocks up our paths, and shuts us up with 
his cold chilling blasts and freezing breath ; but Time, 
the great Restorer, shall again bring smiling -^ Spring with 
its mild and genial warmth, when, instead of ice and 
snow, verdure shall clothe the fields, and in place of 
howling winds, the melody of feathered songsters shall 
salute our ears. The flowers with their pleasant smell 
shall then gaily decorate our path, and all nature rejoice 
in new life and animation. Such is our life ; clouds and 
sunshine constantly succeed each other. Bright hopes are 
blasted, and, phoenix-like, from their ashes, spring still 
fairer prospects and richer possessions. Summer always 
succeeds Winter ; and again, more especially to us who 



1831.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 307 

are prone to view the dark side of things. Winter always 
succeeds Summer. Portentous clouds, threatening utter 
destruction, lower around and darken our path, when sud- 
denly the bright rays of the sun dart forth and dissipate 
the gloom, and its light is so brilliant and grateful we im- 
agine it impossible its lustre should ever again be obscured. 
But though this is a chequered scene, though we know 
not where to look on earth for light and comfort with confi- 
dence, yet where we expected to grope in darkness there 
is often noon-day light, and we are led to feel and to know 
that there is an unseen hand which guides in an undevi- 
ating course all the events of this mortal life. Yes, and 
our kind Father will at length bring all his tried and 
trusting ones safe to glory. No clouds surround the sum- 
mit of that hill where angels live, and where we also soon 
hope to be ; no darkness shrouds its brow, no tempest 
wastes its fury at its foot. It is only on earth that sick- 
ness andj trouble assail the saints ; it is only here that 
sins beset, and their wicked -hearts molest their peace. 
Here is the place, and the only place, for the warfare. 
Here the conquest must be won, '^there enjoyed — -enjoy- 
ed indeed ! What are a few years of pain and sujEFering 
to an eternity of joy ? Let us be more diligent to make 
our caUing and election sure, for the day is at hand — 
the final day — to the christian the joyful day. Joyfully 
he can bid earth, with all its scenes, adieu, or joyful 
wait his Father's time, willing to perform his will on 
earth as well as possess a seat in heaven. May this be 
our condition, living and rejoicing in the Lord, fulfilling 
our duty in all things, useful in our day and generation. 



308 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN, [May, 

and waiting for the glorious appearing of God our Saviour 
in his appointed time, when every one shall be rewarded 
according as his work shall be. The faithful shall then 
shine as the stars in the firmament forever and ever. Such 
may we aim to be. I must close. Yours, s. h. t. 

May 12. — This is a day set apart by our church for 
fasting and prayer. Such is the debilitated state of my 
health I am unable to attend, but I hope the day will not 
be lost. This is a time of great revivals, and our town is 
not yet visited. We do indeed need a few drops of the 
genial shower. O God, the work is thine ; v/e look with 
longing eyes to thee. And O may this church ever be unit- 
ed in love and christian fellowship, and may their united 
prayers ascend to thee this day, and be graciously accept- 
ed. Lend a listening ear to their supplications, and be thou 
in the midst of them. May they feel thy presence and thy 
power. Give them a spirit of fervent supplication, that 
will not let thee go without a blessing ; and whatever 
they may say or do, may it be with a single eye to thy 
glory. Let nothing be done from show or pride ; but, like 
humble beggars, may they approach thee with this one re- 
quest, the outpouring of thy spirit, and O let this request 
be granted. Lord, we are nothing without thee, and can 
do nothing acceptable in thy sight. We sink, we perish, 
without thy supporting hand. Lord, bless the families 
that call upon thy name, and may their number be great- 
ly increased. O bless the young and rising generation, 
and may they be a seed to serve thee. When their fath- 
ers have left the stage of action, and they are called to 



1831.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 309 

take their places, O may they be better fitted, for this 
is a day of Hght and knowledge, and wo to the youth 
who neglects his golden opportunities. 

June 10, 1832. — I am passing off this stage of action. 
I shall sojourn here but a short time only. O that this 
little space might be spent in good deeds to others, and 
in preparing myself for a happy eternity. When I look 
back, all ray past Hfe fills me with shame and confusion. 
Many trying things have afilicted me severely for the few 
past years. Yes, my heart has bled, and my eyes have 
often dissolved in tears. But I wish to forget them all now. 
Injuries that I have received I can freely forgive, because 
God enables me so to do ; and I hope that whatever I 
may have said or done \\Tong to others, God will enable 
them as fi:eely to forgive ; and all these things I wish now 
only to x^emember so far as they will tend to make me 
humble — for I want humihty. I need more of this grace, 
and I desire a great share of it. Let me take my place 
in the dust, and look for nothing but an acceptance with 
God in heaven. ^' Perish, all my fond ambition." And 
O may he accept me for the dear Redeemer's sake, wash 
me from my sins, and take me to himself. 

July 1. — When I sleep in the dust I wish nothing to be 
said of me ; but should my eternal state be spoken of, 
and should any think that through the atoning blood of 
Christ I have been admitted into heaven, O let it be men- 
tioned alone to extol his wonderflil, boundless love in sav-? 
ing so vile, so polluted a sinner as I am, 



310 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [JV(W. 

TO A BROTHER IN B. 

Milton, JVovemher 18, 1832. 
Dear Brother — It was with great pleasure I read 
your two last letters, particularly the last, w^hich seemed 
full of comfort and support, which I needed. I was in- 
deed in a state of darkness and doubt when I received it. 
The thought had come upon me suddenly, or rather the 
conviction, that I must die. I knew my health had been 
failing for more than a year and a half, and I had during 
that time often thought that I must die ; but I never felt 
it before. It had come upon me then in all my weakness, 
and darkness followed. I found a great difference in view- 
ing death at a distance, and near to me. I found he had 
terrors. Still I shrink from his approach ; but I feel more 
resigned to the will of Heaven, than I could then. God has 
condescended to permit my mind to be comforted with 
one promise after another, until I feel as if I could rely 
solely on him, and trust my soul with him both for time 
and eternity. He has seen fit to lead me through deep 
waters. Outward trials must act in concert, too, to bring 
me low, and all his billows went over me. But still he 
would not forget his s inking child. He holds me by the 
hand, and I think and do allow myself to beheve, that, sin- 
ner as I am and have been, and though nature almost 
shudders at this great separation of soul and body, he 
will finally lead me to victory. O what a hope is this ! 
worth more than worlds of wealth and ease. Still, though 
1 entertain this hope, such is my weakness of body that I 
cannot enjoy it as I wish. I cannot converse upon it as I 
wish. My time for reading must be limited. Every power 



1832.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 311 

and faculty has failed. But 1 have been far less troubled 
with worldly thoughts than formerly, and enabled to fix my 
mind more upon religious subjects. I have much to be 
thankful for; many comforts are bestowed upon me, all 
from the hand of my heavenly Father. Though so un- 
deserving, he condescends to feed me with his comforts 
and his promises in these sinking moments. I rejoice to 
submit to the trials he sends upon me, knowing that I 
need purifying. If he will but give me all my punish- 
ment here, and humble me and make me more fit for that 
blest abode above, shall I dare to complain, though every 
friend forsake, and every comfort fail ? O, no ! This hfe is 
a dream, and joy or sorrow signify but little, only as they 
fit us for heaven. 

I think it very doubtful whether you will be able to 
read this writing, or to understand the unconnected sen- 
tences if you do. [ thought I would make an effort to write 
one more letter. I shall not attempt it again, unless my 
heavenly Father sees fit to improve my health. I now 
confine myself entirely to my room, and probably shall 
for the winter, if life is spared. But I know this win- 
ter is to try me, and I know it is doubtful whether I sur- 
vive it. O will you pray for me, that I may now be pre- 
pared to die, and ever resigned to the will of God — that 
my thoughts may be entirely withdrawn from the world, 
and placed on — Home. 

I am now reading, or rather studying, Mrs. Graham. 
She had no doubts. She knew in whom she believed. But 
I fear, often fear, that my wicked heart deceives me. I 
know, though she was so very pious, that she had nothing 



312 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. [DeC. 

more nor less to rely upon for salvation than I have, vile 
and sinful as I am. The merits of the Saviour are all 
any sinner can plead. I have found great comfort in that 
book. It was doubtless sent me in mercy, though I am 
undeserving. 

I must close. My dear, dear brother, shall it be for 
the last time ? I think I can say from the heart, God's 
will be done. I wish to thank you for all your favors of 
this kind, and every kind, and O may we meet and unite 
our songs in heaven. Yours. s. h. t. 

Dec. 26. — Why distrust a heavenly Father, who has 
led me so gently thus far ; who has mitigated my pains, 
and given me so much relief from suffering ? • 

27. — I am standing on the brink of this Jordan. The 
day is very near when it must be crossed. Dear Jesus, 
meet me there. I trust he will. Sweet promises confirm 
my trust. " He is not a man, that he should lie," &c. I 
think my title is clear to mansions in the skies, and I care 
not how soon the hour of release arrives. 

28.— O God, save my children ! 

29. — Thy waiting servant is still here. O I want a 
perfect resignation to the will of God ; it can be but a few 
days before the brink of this Jordan must be touched. 
Dear Jesus, thou must do all for me. O what a misera- 
ble place is a death bed to prepare for that solemn hour ; 
but to christians already prepared, a joyful hour, if Jesus 
will but come and meet us. And certainly he will not be 
unmindful. He has trod the valley alone, and crossed 
the stream alone in all its swellino-s. 



1832.] DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 313 

30. — Behold thy waiting servant. Lord. Come and 
convey me hence, if consistent with thy holy will. Thy 
rod and thy staff must support me as I cross the portals. 
I am thine. O let me depart in peace. There I hence- 
forth look for my home, and the contemplation, when I 
can fix my mind on it, is delightful. 

TO HER SISTER. 

December SI, 1S32* 
Dear Sister — Farewell, until we meet in a better 
world. I wish you to think of the children occasionally, 
and particularly J., when I am gone. 

We shall meet again, I trust. Adieu — my only and 
beloved sister. Yours. s. 



* The day before her death. 



29 



314 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. 



LETTERS TO HER CHILDREN. 



June I5 182S. — You, my dear child, have just stepped 
upon this stage of action. Whether you are destined, ere 
you are aware of the nature of your existence, to lose it 
in the cold embrace of death, and be followed by your 
mourning parents to an early grave, or whether you will 
survive this season of infancy and pass through childhood's 
days to manhood's ripest years, is all unknown to me. 
Impenetrable obscurity hides all your future prospects from 
my knowledge, otherwise than that I know — and O it is 
a painful truth to know — that if you live. Sin and Sorrow 
must attend your earthly course. The idea of your sor- 
rowing I can bear. Yes, it is comparatively trifling to 
think that you may be the subject of poignant sorrow^s from 
your cradle to your grave. The thought that those mild 
eyes, indicative of the gentle disposition you have as yet 
ever shown, must be suffused in tears over the grave of 
every friend you have, is not half so distressing as the 
thought that He, who has brought you into existence, 
who has watched and ever will watch over you to keep 
you from harm, will be offended by your disobedience. O, 
my child, is it possible you can ever be so ungrateful to 
Him, so regardless of the kind admonitions of friends and 
>ministers, so unmindful of your own best interest, as to 
slight the God who made you, and who has opened away 
for your redemption from sin, though the ransom cost the 
precious blood of his beloved Son. Whether you will live 



LETTERS TO HER CHILDREN. 315 

to hear, or whether your parents will live to tell you, your 
duty, is known only to Him who will order it for the best- 

*' The spider's most attenuated thread 

Is cord, is cable, to man's tender tie to earthly bliss. 

It breaks at every breeze." 

Though I am now in health, yet ere you can pronounce 
the name of the relationship I bear to you, I may be 
sleeping beneath the sods, and you consigned to the care 
of strangers. Such a consignment would not now be pain- 
ful to you, as you would soon forget your mother. But 
to me it would be inexpressibly painful to give you up in 
the helpless days of infancy, or even in childhood's older 
years, when the twig must be very cautiously bent, to 
those who would be comparatively indifferent towards you. 
Should this be my lot, as it has been the lot of many oth- 
ers, may this little paper be preserved for you until you 
are able to peruse it. Then will you receive it as a token 
of my regard for your spiritual welfare. Remember, for 
no other purpose was it written than that you might be 
excited by it to live a life of piety on earth, and be pre- 
pared for another and better world. And if when you 
look over these lines you do not feel that you have often 
sinned against your heavenly Father, let your earnest 
prayer be, ^' Lord, show me what I am." Let this be 
your constant prayer until you are conscious that you need 
the mercy of a Mediator to save you from what your sins 
deserve. I cannot think there ever will be such a change in 
friends and circumstances as that you will not be rehgious- 
ly taught, in some degree ; though perhaps this is possible. 
Still I cannot— -no, 1 cannot relinquish the beUef that God 



316 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. 

Will make you a child of his. Should I early leave you in 
a world of sin, and should it be my happy lot, sinner as I 
am, to be admitted into those blessed mansions above, me- 
thinks 1 should anxiously wait to welcome you there ; and 
whenever loud acclamations of praise resounded from the 
innumerable company around the throne — when angels 
struck to loudest praise their golden harps, and joy filled 
every happy spirit, because another sinner had left the 
downward road to destruction and was travelling to heav- 
en, should I not eagerly inquire whether it was my child ? 
And O, my eyes at this moment fill with joyful tears when 
I think what must be my extacy if answered that it was. 
Then how should I eagerly catch at the news of your pro- 
gress in religion ; for if saints and angels rejoice at the 
new birth of a soul, do they not interest themselves in its 
journey through the world? and should I not then be 
gladdened again and again by the joyful intelligence that 
you had been the means of reclaiming this one, and that, 
and another, from the paths of sin? And last of all, when 
the Celestial City was ringing with adoration and thanks- 
giving because a new inhabitant had arrived from earth, 
should I not rush forward to see if it were my child ? 

O think of this — ponder on it. Forget it not, until you 
have obtained all that the promises contain for you, all 
that a Saviour's precious blood has purchased, all the tri- 
umph over sin which lie will enable you to attain, and all 
the victory that his dying groans achieved for you over 
death and hell — until you, too, really walk the golden 
streets, and tune your harp to immortal praise. 

June 10. — My dear child — Did I know your life would 



LETTERS TO HER CHILDREN. 3l7 

be spared and mine taken away, or that any other event 
would prevent my giving you the instruction I wish you 
to receive, I think I should not fail to write something 
every day for your perusal. But should we both be spared 
ed to live together in love and unity for many years, these 
imperfect effusions, dictated as they are by a heart whose 
first wish is to do you good and bring you up for useful- 
ness in the world, may not be wholly uninteresting. I 
think I shall therefore pursue the plan of writing occa- 
sionally — of instructing you briefly in those great and 
important principles which I trust will early be chosen as 
your guide through hfe, and of noticing some of the pass- 
ing incidents wdiich may interest you. But what shall I 
tell you ? If brought up in a christian land, under the 
sound of the gospel, you will already have heard its pre* 
cious truths, perhaps till your heart has become so cal- 
lous that they make no impression there. The most im- 
portant truths for you to know, are, that your heart by na- 
ture is depraved, and unless renewed by the power of di- 
vine grace you can never enter the kingdom of God ; 
that here is your only state of preparation for a never — 
never-ending eternity, which you must spend in a state of 
misery if unprepared for heaven. Take these solemn 
truths w^ith you, my dear child. If you have heard them 
before, I beg of you for my sake to take them from my 
pen, and remember them until you have gained that pre- 
paration of heart, to produce which is my only aim in writ- 
ing to you. Yes, my only aim. I would fain have you 
learned and amiable. I would have you obliging, upright 
and useful. But I would not give up this change of heart 
29^ 



^IS HIDDEN Lifli OF A CHRISTIAN. 

for these things, nor for everything else. I do not wish 
you to be rich and great. No, by no means, if you are 
not good. If your heart is not given to God, and his 
glory is not your aim in all you do, I wish you, for the 
Sake of others, to live in the greatest possible obscurity. 
'^ Seek first the kingdom of God, and all these things 
shall be added unto you," says our blessed Saviour to his 
disciples ; and this, I believe, has been verified in others, 
and would be in you. Each of your parents was, I 
humbly trust, called early to seek for happiness in the 
promises of the gospel — one at 15 and the other at 12 
years of age, and we have been well provided for and led 
on in peace. Though much silver and gold has not fall- 
en to our share, no doubt withheld in mercy, yet our 
water has always been given us and our bread sure, and 
other blessings have abounded unto us. Not on account 
of our merit, by no means ; it is all of mercy. It was 
mercy that called us early, that upheld us in the slippery 
paths of youth, giving us kind friends and gospel privi- 
leges, and that still leads us safely on. O may that same 
mercy call and adopt you for a son. 

20. — I tremble, my child, when I think into what a 
world you are entering — what outward trials must meet 
you at every step. But still, great as these may be, I 
fear more on account of those within. Here is the source 
of troubles and difficulties. Your ow^n evil heart will 
cause your greatest woes. O may that heart be renewed 
by the power of changing grace. O may that heart be 
early and ardently devoted to God ; and should it constant- 
ly be your aim to say and do what would be acceptable to 



LETTERS TO HER CHILDREN. 319 

him, what evils would you escape. But, alas ! should 
you live in sin ! O the overwhelming thought ! Should 
you die in sin — But I can go no further — a tear would 
blot it out. 

July 7. — jNIy dear child — This is the first anniversary 
of your birth-day. I had long intended devoting it en- 
tirely to you. Many circumstances conspire to render it 
peculiarly solemn to me, and I have wished to devote the 
hours to prayer for you, and in giving you, in the only 
way I at present can, the best advice I am able. But I 
have been unexpectedly prevented from devoting so large 
a part of the day to this purpose as I intended. You 
have, my child, been with me, night and day, one year, 
and though by no means a troublesome child, still a con- 
stant care._ When I first looked upon you on the day of 
your birth, it was with ardent wishes, and I trust fervent 
prayers, that I might bring you up for God. I longed to 
give you up publicly to him, and at the age of two months 
you were carried up to the sanctuary. I think I never en- 
joyed any season as I did that. It seemed like laying the 
foundation stone, and sealing you for the Lord's. Omay 
not the bond.be broken. It has since been my wish that 
in the first year of your life you might become a member 
of a Missionary Society ; but as no Juvenile Society exists 
in our town, my wish has not been realized. Yet I have 
reserved a small sum to be given for that purpose on your 
account, so that you will begin your life by contributing 
in its first year to the support of missionaries — and O 
may you never fail to give something each year of you^ 
life. And now, ray child, the sun has. just shed its last 



320 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. 

beams on the day which completes the first year of your 
existence. To you the months have rolled unconsciously 
away, and to me they seem but a speck of time. 

August. — It is astonishing, my child, how much is 
lost or gained as you manage your temper. Remem- 
ber, as you grow in years, to govern your temper. Be 
calm and quiet, and you w^ill almost ahvays, when right, 
gain your point, and secure the esteem and good will of 
those around you ; but if you cease to manage it, and give 
way to those passions to which human nature is subject, 
you will generally for this very reason lose what you wish 
to gain, and sink in the estimation of every person who 
sees you. It is important that you possess the good will 
of those with whom you associate, and that they see you 
assiduous in rendering them all the services in your power, 
instead of selfishly pleasing yourself — a practice which al- 
ways excites disgust. 

Sept. 7. — Our neighbors are in affliction, mourning 
the loss of friends, while we are all spared to each other 
in health. Yet, my child, if you five, I know that you, 
too, must see trouble. O may you be prepared to meet 
it and not sin. I do not fear earthly trouble for you half 
so much as sin. I hope you will strive to conquer 
evil passions in your own heart. There is where they 
have their rise, and there is where they must be subdued. 
Pride is a sin which taints almost every performance. A 
sincere and devoted christian has not become such with- 
out hard conflicts with this enemy to grace. Humility is 
a distinguishing characteristic of a true christian. You, 
my child, must fight against this sin of our nature. 



LETTERS TO HER CHILDREN. 321 

We here form characters for eternity. What they are 
at our death, I think they will be forever. Not that we 
shall, in another world, be exactly as we are here in our 
mortal bodies ; but to those who are lost, the envy, jeal- 
ousy and resentment, or whatever other sins they may 
have been addicted to here, will more horribly assail them 
there ; and those who enter heaven, if they have neg- 
lected to cultivate good graces and amiable virtues, will 
enjoy so much the less for it there, because less capable 
of enjoying. Every one will have his cup full ; but an 
expanded and richly-cultivated mind will take in much 
more enjoyment than a contracted and ignorant one. One 
abounding with a large share of benevolence and love to 
all mankind, will enjoy much more in seeing so many 
happy, than a more selfish one. Still they will be all one 
in Christ, and emulations and jealousies will find no place 
there. This should be an additional stimulus to us to 
make every improvement we can ; and you, my child, if 
your life is spared — and it is with inexpressible pleasure 
I say it — will doubtless hve in a day when knowledge 
shall be greatly increased. A few generations back, ad- 
vantages for gaining religious and all other kinds of use- 
ful knowledge were very small to what they now are. 
My grandmother, like others who were children with her, 
learned to read, and write her name ; and this was all the 
school education she ever received. But you will not 
want for opportunities of gaining any knowledge you wish. 
I hope you will feel no disposition to neglect, in the bright 
season of youth, that which will tend so greatly to your 
happiness in after life. Neglect not to gain all the in- 



322 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. 

struction and information you can. Knowledge is a treas- 
ure which cannot, Hke riches, take to itself wings and fly- 
away. Therefore never keep money to the neglect of 
education. 

September, — Should you ever be left an orphan, my 
child, the necessity of making to yourself friends wdll be 
more apparent than if you are [permitted to live under 
your parents' care. Then you will stand, in a measure, 
alone, and must push your way unaided by your dearest 
natural connections. But your journey will be much more 
agreeable and safe if you have made friends who will ac- 
company you and with whom you can walk hand in hand. 
I do not mean that you should seek to make friends of 
every one indiscriminately; for though you are bound 
to treat every fellow creature well, and, as far as in you 
lies, live peaceably with all men, yet you are not to take 
every acquaintance for a bosom friend. You may and 
should treat those^ who are not worthy of this, with great 
kindness, while your heart is not opened to an intimate 
intercourse with them. But neither would I have you 
practise a cold reservedness in your manners and conver- 
sation. No, a close and apparently suspicious spirit wdll 
excite jealousies, and of course dislike, in others. Be 
open and affable, very free and famihar with your friends, 
and easy of access to every one. It will then be easily 
discovered w^hat you are ; and those who thus see that 
your heart is not doubly barred and bolted against them, 
will, if kindred spirits and worthy of your friendship, not 
withhold theirs from you. And now, my child, I will un- 
fold to you the great secret of true kindness, politeness 



HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. 323 

and good breeding. Who was it that spake as never man 
spake, and who, after every evil thing had been said 
against him that could be devised, was acknowledged to 
be without fault ; who was beloved by his friends, esteem- 
ed by his enemies, and did good to all ? It was your 
blessed Saviour — he who invites you to come to his arms 
and to walk in his steps. Do this, my child, with true 
sincerity and in firm reliance on his gracious promises, and 
you will be secure from errors both in your feelings and 
actions towards your fellow creatures. Go, my dear, go 
without delay, and in obeying him lay the foundation of 
your character. 

Nov. 2. — Several wrecks have elapsed since I penned 
anything for you. Time flies very fast away, and bears 
you on through your infantile months. Childhood's riper 
days await you, unless death arrest your steps and bear 
you to that world " from whose bourne no traveller re- 
turns," whither you, your parents, and all your friends, 
are alike hastening. But I would not dress death in ter- 
rors. I wish only to remind you of your latter end, and 
to inform you, too, that to the christian death has lost its 
sting. Make it the business of your life, my dear child, 
to keep in preparation for death, and you will then have 
nothing to fear, everything to hope. Be about your Mas- 
ter's business, so that you may be that blessed servant 
who shall always be found doing. Idleness ! the mother 
of every vice ! may it be forever banished from all your 
concerns, both spiritual and temporal. Idleness is degrad- 
ing to human nature, even were we always to continue 
here ; and O think what a curse to a short-lived, dying 



324 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. 

creature ! Should your parents live, I think that from 
your earhest years you will be kept constantly employed ; 

*' In works of labor or of play 
Will your first years be spent." 

I am difrressinor a little ; but lest I should have no other 
opportunity, I now enjoin it upon you never to idle away 
your precious time. Whatever others do, you are now 
told never, in ordinary hours of business, to practise sitting 
or standing idle, and in company to spend no more such 
time than is absolutely necessary. To your mother, an 
idle, loitering, lounging person is one of the most disgust- 
ing of characters. God never gave us a moment to throw 
away, nor a moment for which we must not give an 
account. 

And now 1 have introduced the subject, my dear, I 
wish to tell you more of the dreadful crime of Idleness. 
It has been the means of bringing many a wretched victim 
to prison and to the gallows. I wish you to shun not only 
constant idleness, but also occasional idleness, a vice you 
will more easily fall into. It is true the employment of 
most men is such that it cannot occupy them at their own 
firesides nor in the social circle, as the employment of 
females can them ; and in consequence they must of ne- 
cessity spend many moments unemployed with their 
usual business. Do you, my child, endeavor not to lose 
these moments, but glean, by profitable reading or con- 
versation, something useful. It is my opinion that many 
little manual occupations might also be pursued by men 
while sitting with their families during long evenings, with- 
out the least impropriety. Some trifling article, which 



LETTERS TO HER CHILDREN. 325 

would be very useful, might at such times be made, and 
thus the mind, instead of sinking into a torpid state for 
want of something to do, be kept awake, and a talent, 
instead of being buried in a napkin, improved and multi- 
plied. Your father's aged grandmother is a model of in- 
dustry. May it be your privilege to know her when her 
example can be of service to you. She is now 85, an early 
riser, and constantly very usefully employed — and besides 
this, remarkably pleasant and free from the peevishness 
and impatience too often attendant on old age. She is justly 
beloved by all who know her. My grandmother was to 
her latest days, which extended to 96 years, remarkable 
for her early rising and her industrious habits. Manufac- 
turing cloth by hand was in her day a very common em- 
ployment for females. This she practised all her long life, 
and in the course of her ninetieth year she wove 1300 
yards. No doubt it was in this way she prolonged her 
useful life. Early rising is an important duty. Do you 
attend to this. An idler in the morning is likely to be one 
through the day. Retire when you please at night ; but 
never let that orb of light which is sent to attend your 
labors, find you in bed in the morning. It can be of no 
use to you while you are there. Summer and winter, I 
wish you to rise before the sun. 

But, my child, as you labor and pursue your daily 
occupation ; as you toil, as all the human family must in 
some way or other, in providing for the meat that perish- 
eth, do not let your mind be bound up in accumulating 
that which can answer no purpose at the hour of death, 
nor when you are called to give an account of the im- 
30 



326 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. 

provement of your time and talents. Remember for what 
purpose you live. Remember that the time will come 
when you must die, and that to be prepared for this is the 
most important concern of the present life. 

December. — Sixteen months of your life are gone, and 
how many more are allotted you, or whether you shall 
survive another month or day, is known only to Him who 
orders all events for good. Should your life be prolong- 
ed, I am very desirous that you should first and above all 
things embrace the religion of the gospel. Let this be 
the rule and guide of your life, for this only can be a sup- 
port in death, and this only will open to you the portals 
of heaven. 

March, 1829. — The winter is gone, and the beautiful 
Spring is returning apace. The time of the singing of 
birds has arrived, and the bursting forth of the green grass 
and the variegated flowers will soon bless our sight. The 
pleasures derived from the sight of these beauteous ob- 
jects, you now, my child, know nothing of; and neither 
do you know that this world, notwithstanding these sources 
of innocent pleasure, is full of wickedness and misery* 
I often look forward to your coming days with dread, and 
tremble to think that should you live, you must in some 
degree mingle with the idle and the vicious who v/ill con- 
stantly surround you. But there is a choice for you to 
make in your companions ; and if you should have no pa- 
rents to direct your steps, I conjure you now to shun bad 
company. Deceit, you will find, is the fashionable cloak. 
Yes, deceit and hypocrisy are worn more or less, per- 
haps, by every human being ; by the humble christian, 



LETTERS TO HER CHILDREN. 327 

however, but seldom. For what has he to conceal from 
the world whose thoughts and affections are regulated by 
the law of his God? But, alas ! this threadbare cloak, with 
its tinsel trappings, will too often beguile you. Frequently 
will It be the case, that when smiles and flattery meet you 
with open arms, you would start back with horror could 
you behold the serpent that lurks within, waiting only for 
a favorable moment to give to your peace a blow more 
cruel far than death. Alas ! such is man — unrenewed 
man. I would not have you in any respect a deceitful 
character. No, be open and frank in all your dealings w^ith 
your fellow creatures — using prudence, however, as your 
judgment or the advice of superiors shall dictate. On the 
other hand, I would not have you a suspicious character, 
unjustly fearing every person with whom you have to 
deal. This course, besides being disagreeable, leads other 
persons to suspect you. Do not appear what you are 
not ; but what you wish to appear, strive in reality to be. 
We are apt to take much more pains to appear good, than 
to be so. This is unwise. Once acquire^the habit of being 
good, and it will be easy to appear so. A bad man must 
have recourse to a thousand artifices to hide his disposition 
or habits, and after all loses his labor, for it is a fact that 
our real characters are generally sooner or later disco vered* 
Are you passionate at home ? You may smile abroad, 
and think no one will suppose that you ever do otherwise. 
But at an unguarded moment you have let an angry ex- 
pression fall before a visiter, or a person without has heard 
the hasty word, and it is of course reported and circulat- 
ed, and comes to the ears of those whose good opinion 



328 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. 

you highly value. Do you occasionally drop a profane 
word or utter an untruth ? Ah, what is whispered yonder 
when you approach? and what, as you enter the house of 
Godj is felt in many a heart, and what comments are made 
on your charities to the poor and to religious societies ? 
Why are your endeavors to be considered good and pious 
so unsuccessful, and why are others preferred before you ? 
Ah, the tale is told. Perhaps only a child heard you; 
but it was heard, it was rehearsed, and a word once gone 
from your mouth is beyond your control, 

July. — If I should write you a history, my dear child, 
of passing events, it would be a relation of one afflic- 
tion after another in which we or our neighbors are con- 
cerned. Our cousin, who was yesterday consigned to the 
tomb in W., has been a great sufferer ; for five years she 
has been confined to her bed, been often the subject of 
great pain, and from her infancy was deaf and dumb. 
She has endured more than I should have thought a mor- 
tal could endure and live. Sores on one side had drawn 
up her foot, and in that situation she has been obliged 
partly to sit and partly to lie for four years, and often- 
times her paroxysms of distress were agonizing to every 
beholder. But yet her lot was enviable compared to that 
of many an immortal in this or in another world, for true 
piety was hers, and her name was doubtless written in 
heaven. She was daily waiting for her release from pain 
and sickness and her entrance into glory, where, as she 
said in her way, she could hear as well as any one, and 
where she well knew her sufferings would not follow her. 
Her meek and placid countenance was charming to be- 



LETTERS TO HER CHILDREN. 329 

hold, while her fingers were constantly employed in mak- 
ing articles of use or ornament, notwithstanding her dis- 
tressing situation. Happy spirit! Her flight is taken, 
joyfully taken, from a body wounded and distorted, and 
distracted with constant pain, to a world of glory, where 
heavenly melody breaks the long silence which to her 
ears reigned below, and where her own hps are also at- 
tuned to enchanting lays. She is no longer a silent spec- 
tator of others' happiness, of which she cannot partake, 
and no longer is the wish of increasing that happiness a 
fruitless one. 

September. — It is often said in my hearing — '^ What 
a day is this in which we live !" and there is reason for 
the remark. Yes, such a time as this was never be- 
fore known. The last thirty years have produced won- 
ders. Wonderful indeed has been the increase of asso- 
ciations for every righteous purpose ; and missionaries, 
whose researches have extended to the remotest corners 
of the habitable globe, have greatly multiplied. When I 
was a child, I recollect barely hearing that there were 
such institutions as Sabbath Schools ; but I believe there 
w^ere then none in this country. What, in this respect, 
have twenty years effected ? Now" every individual child 
(in this part of the country at least) may attend a Sabbath 
School. Should these flattering prospects in the rehgious 
world continue to increase and brighten, O what, my child, 
may your eyes behold thirty years hence ? More, per- 
haps much more, than I can now conceive of. If the 
present generation have felt and done much ; if in the be- 
ginning of the undertaking they have achieved great 
30^ 



330 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. 

things — what have we not reason to expect from the next 
generation, brought up as they are with the work begun 
and in view ? O, my child, I hope you will not be un- 
worthy to live in such a day. I could wish you might be 
actively employed in the glorious work. I hope some 
little corner at least of the great vineyard will bear testi- 
mony to your exertions in some way, in the noble work 
of evangelizing the world. Unobserved it may be ; the 
eye of man need never cast a look on the humble spot, 
nor on the lowly being who labors there ; your praise need 
never be sounded among the noisy multitude — your fame 
need not be proclaimed. But if your talents and circum- 
stances keep you on humble ground, there labor with all 
your might, and the great Searcher of hearts will not fail 
to see and approve ; and without this approval, of what 
avail would be all the fame and the praise which the 
world could trumpet forth ? 

October. — I wish, my dear child, you would ever re- 
member the Sabbath, as the Scripture directs you. You 
are not to follow the example of those around you ; not 
that of the worldling, nor even of many professing chris- 
tians, for christians are deficient here as in other things. 
Unnecessary riding and visiting on the Sabbath are very 
unbecoming in christians. One would think they would 
seldom be guilty of this ; but a plea of want of time on 
other days has brought many out for this purpose on the 
Sabbath. And what an excuse is this ! God has given 
us six days for ourselves ; all this time is ours for lawful 
purposes, and He has taken but one in seven for himself. 
How, then, can we say that we have not time in these six 



LETTERS TO HER CHILDREN. 331 

days to perform our temporal duties, but must infringe 
upon the Lord's time. If we grudge taking suflicient of 
our own time for visiting, we have no right to supply the 
deficiency by taking those hours which we have been com- 
manded to keep holy. Be careful, my child, in fulfilling 
this command. 

January 31, 1830. — I am this day absent from meet- 
ing on account of extreme cold weather. I have taken 
my pen, though I think of nothing special to write. Time, 
with rapid wing, is passing us by, and carrying with it our 
days, months and years. Our life in review seems like a 
dream of the night. O that its short period might be 
earnestly devoted to the best of purposes. It is, at the long- 
est, short enough to prepare for a never-ending eternity. I 
hope in early childhood you will realize the truth of this. 

*' 'Twill save you from a thousand snares, 
To mind religion young." 

You may repent of almost everything else ; but you 
will never repent of beginning to serve God too soon, or 
of serving him too faithfully. Ah, no. Labor ever so 
assiduously to fulfil your duty to Him, and still on a dying 
bed you will feel regret that you fell so far short and did 
so little. 

April 18. — Several months have passed since I last 
wrote for you. A kind God has still protected us from all 
dangers, seen and unseen ; health and peace have blessed 
our habitation, and our friends and all our other comforts 
have been continued to us. Surely for such undeserved 
favors our hearts ought to rise in unfeigned gratitude to 
the great Giver of every good and perfect gift. What do 



332 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTAIN. 

we deserve, and what do we receive ? O how the com- 
parison ought to strike us with awe, and make us humble 
before the great all- wise Disposer of events. But all these 
earthly blessings are uncertain. God has so established 
the arrangements of his providence, that these blessings 
may be taken from us or we from them without a m.o- 
ment's warning. I hope, my child, you will therefore 
early seek for more substantial good. 

September 26. — After a lapse of several months, my 
dear child, I am again seated, in health and safety, ad- 
dressing my lines to you. Many, very many impor- 
tant events have transpired since I last wrote. War and 
bloodshed in some places have prevailed. Sickness and 
famine in others have raged. Death, with his sure and 
certain darts, in all lands has borne away trophies of his 
destructive reign. The king and the peasant have been 
levelled to the dust, and in their resting-place is no dis- 
tinction made. But while war and devastation, pestilence 
and death, have prevailed in other lands, our own happy 
country has been blest with the smiles of heaven, and 
Peace and Prosperity, the plants of choicest growth, have 
thrived in our borders. But even here we have seen the 
work of death, and the graves of our kindred are round 
about us. An uncle of mine has been called, since I 
last wrote, to part with Hfe and all its shifting scenes. 
Another event, in which, while life lasts, you must be 
much concerned, has also taken place. On the 3d of July 
your brother was born. I hope a fond affection will ever 
subsist between you, and that no root of bitterness will 
spring up to mar that mutual love and sweet intercourse 



LETTERS TO HER CHILDREN. 333 

without which you must ever be unhappy. Should you 
ever cease to love each other, know assuredly there must 
be blame somewhere, for God and nature have placed you 
in a very near connection, where you must live together 
in peace or the consciousness of guilt must make you un- 
happy. Henceforth I must address myself to you both ; 
and O, you know not the happiness it would give me 
to see you, as you grow in years, mutually growing in 
knowledo^e and walkins; in the fear of the Lord. O let 
there be no strife between you, but who shall serve God 
best. Here you may nobly endeavor to outstrip each 
other, and love each other the more for the emulation. 

Oct, 17. — Probably before you can read your mother's 
writing, you will have heard all the important things 
which she can tell you, and I hope will not have heard in 
vain. But if you have, O read this as for eternity. Read 
it and take the solemn warning to prepare, in your youth- 
ful days, for that heaven of happiness which is to be won. 
Pause and think ; lay not down to rest, 1 charge you, until 
you have some reason to think you have made your peace 
with God. The price for your never-dying souls is paid, 
and you are the Lord's if you only consent to be. O re- 
pent, then, and give yourselves to Him. Assist each 
other in this important work. Delays harden the heart in 
sin, and death is ever niorh. O think what an awful thino; 
it must be to leave everything here, every friend and 
relative, and every object which is dear to us, and go un- 
prepared into another world, there to hear those awful 
words from the hps of that Being whom you have offend- 
ed — ^' Depart from me " ! Your bitterest repentance and 



334 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. 

deepest groans will then avail you nothing. All the evil 
passions which haunted you here, will probably be in full 
exercise there, and be eternal, too. He who once would 
save you, now gives you up. O, my children, I turn with 
horror from the picture I have drawn. With your parents, 
next to their own salvation, certainly yours is the burden 
of their prayers and wishes. We were all made to serve 
our Maker. Duty commands, and we should obey. We 
were made to be happy if we would. It is a great bless- 
ing — let us seize it without delay. Invitations from Him 
who made us are numerous. Jesus has poured out his 
soul in agony, has suffered the wrath of the Almighty in 
our stead, and thus widely opened the way for our salva- 
tion. O let us walk in it ; then happiness, unbounded 
happiness, is ours. 

This is Sabbath evening, and I am alone, writing, my 
dear children, with a view to your future benefit. Before 
I can personally tell you the importance of religion, I may 
be called from you by death. Then, when you can read 
these imperfect writings, they will probably be given you. 
Perhaps they are not written sufficiently plain for you 
to read ; but some fragments may be gathered from 
them which will be of service to you. With the blessing 
of God, the weakest means can prove effectual to the con- 
version of the soul. 

December 12. — This is the Lord's day — the holy day— 
a day, I trust, which you, my children, will ever love. 
You will have great reason to doubt your safety when 
you cannot welcome the holy Sabbath, and devote its sa- 
cred hours to the service of God. I beheve that your 



LETTERS TO HER CHILDREN, 335 

spiritual and temporal welfare will depend mach on the 
manner in which you spend the Sabbath. 

January 2, 1831. — On us, my dear children, has dawn- 
ed the light of another Sabbath, and the commencement 
of a new year. I have heard our dear minister this fore- 
noon on the signs of the times. Verily, my children, it 
will be your lot to hve in an eventful day. Verily you 
shall see and hear of wonderful things, for the end is not 
yet. Stand ye in your watch-tower and hear what He the 
great Mover of all these events shall say unto you, and 
be yourselves ready for every good work. You will not 
live in a day of general ignorance, though you may in a 
day of awful profanity and crime. Deistical and atheisti- 
cal principles are prevailing to an alarming degree, |nd 
are tending to the destruction of all sacred and natural ties 
and obhgations. Awful, awful indeed is this belief, and 
the result to which it thus tends. I need say no more of 
this than to warn you against it, for too soon will you know 
of this and other inlets to the broad road to destruction ; 
while the narrow path, with only one low entrance, con- 
taining but here and there an humble traveller, though 
irradiated by a bright shining light, will be found and walk- 
ed in only through constant watchfulness and a reliance on 
divine assistance. An ignorant mind is favorable to the 
reception of such demoralizing principles. I should not 
think a well-cultivated mind could for a moment look 
abroad on the stupendous or more minute works of crea- 
tion, and doubt for a moment the existence of a great, a 
wonderfully great and noble Architect, whose genius 
shines beautiful in every work of his hands. Slight in- 



336 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. 

formation will convince us that we are surrounded with 
wonders, the simplest of which all the men in the world 
could never create. I wish you, therefore, my children, 
to cultivate your minds. Neglect no opportunity of gain- 
ing useful information of every kind. Study the works 
of your Creator, the smallest of which are worthy of at- 
tention. Every plant that grows affords a useful lesson. 
Though I am not a proficient in the science of Botany, 
yet I have heard many a sermon from the pulpit which 
has not afforded me so much pleasure or instruction as 
some little flower which I have sitten down and minutely 
examined. To see how the finger of God had traced 
every part in inimitable perfection — how beautifully it was 
foroied, decorated and painted, was indeed wonderful and 
delightful, and at once convinced me of the greatness and 
perfection of its Maker, who though the former of num- 
berless worlds, neglected not this little plant. This world 
is likewise suspended by the might of his power, and the 
sun and moon made to perform their revolutions. He 
neglects not our frames, which are also curiously and won- 
derfully wrought, keeping every one of its numerous parts 
in regular and unceasing motion. Far, far beyond our 
comprehension is this great, self-created Power. We 
cannot send a thought half way to God. 

February 9. — I hope it will be your happy lot to pos- 
sess amiable tempers and dispositions. This will be of 
very great advantage to you in all your concerns, and no 
time or labor will be lost that is spent in striving to gain 
these happy feelings. Let not passion usurp the place of 
reason, but be reasonable in all your requirements and in 



LETTERS TO HER CHILDREN. 337 

all your doings, or you certainly lose by it. Be just and 
upright, peaceable in your deportment, always more ready 
to forgive injuries than to inflict them. Follow your 
bright Exemplar, the spotless Jesus. 

February, 1832. — Ever since I last wrote, my health 
has been in a state of decline, and I often think, my chil- 
dren, that I shall be taken from you at an early period of 
your existence. If this should be the case, I hope you 
will be brought up in the fear of God by other hands. 
Ill His fear may you pass your days, and with Him be 
happy at last. My health has been such that I have been 
unfit for any labor this winter, and consequently unable to 
write, and I must now lay aside my pen. Should it never 
be your lot to listen to your mother's instructions, may 
you be so instructed by others as never to forget her 
God. May you early flee from sin, and walk in the ways^ 
of righteousness. 

March 25. — It is not best, my children, that we should 
always meet with success in our earthly plans. Prone as 
we are to love this world, I fear we should never take our 
eyes off the beautiful things around us if the sun always 
cast its bright light upon them. Should we not pursue 
these vanities with an ever-eager grasp, did not darkness 
occasionally hide them from our sight? And O how 
dreadful would it be to have all our portion here ! Our 
aflfections are so riveted below, that it requires an almighty 
power to break the charm ; and shall we not be thank- 
ful for such kind interpositions ? The longer you live, 
the more inclined you will probably find yourselves to love 
the world, and the more difficult will it be to relinquish 
31 



338 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. 

Its pursuits, which in the end you will find are vanity, and 
not capable of satisfying an immortal mind. Seek, then, 
early, an interest in the Saviour, and here you will find 
food and riches which will satisfy all your cravings and 
never cloy. 

June 10. — I have passed a fortnight at my father's in D. 
It is the only time I have ever been separated from you, 
my dear children, but I left you in safe hands at home. My 
health is very poor, and 1 may soon be called to leave 
you entirely. If so, I hope and trust Providence will 
provide for you and give you all needful blessings. I hope 
you will find kind friends who will regard both your tem- 
poral and spiritual welfare. I never had an earnest wish 
that you should be rich ; 1 only desire that you may have 
the means of procuring a good education and respecta- 
bihty, to render you useful, instead of being bred in igno- 
rance and unable to be of any service to yourselves or 
others. 

July I. — Yes, I, think I shall leave you. My weak- 
ness increases, and I shall not probably be spared to as- 
sist in leading you up to youth and manhood. I have 
nothing else to wish to live for. I think, situated as I 
am, I could perform no other service than this, should my 
life continue longer. Yes, my children, you are all I 
really wish to live for. Sometimes I think of you as little 
motherless boys, and no one can feel for you hke a moth- 
er. In such circumstances you will find yourselves under 
greater necessity of behaving with propriety to all around 
you, and thus gaining their good will and kind attention. 
And I hope your education will not be neglected. But 



LETTERS TO HER CHILDREN. 339 

you will not derive all the advantages from it which your 
mother would wish you to receive, unless you desire 
learning yourselves ; and if you possess this desire, I have 
nothing to fear. In this day of schools and mental im- 
provement, you will not be bred in ignorance ; you will 
yourselves find ways and means to obtain all useful know- 
ledge — and if these are faithfully improved, sloth and a 
grovelling mind will not be your unhappy portion, but 
your literary pursuits will be followed with pleasure and 
great advantage. I hope you will each of you ever cher- 
ish a love of knowledge. 

In two days, my little J., you will have completed two 
years of your life. Time will bear you on, if life is spar- 
ed, to the snares and temptations of youth ; and O, I hope 
you will have grace to resist them. Let not the gay scenes 
of life attract your fond regard. Let not the thoughtless 
and rude be your companions. Look into your own heart 
and see what you need there. From scenes of gaiety and 
mirth you must turn away. They do not suit an immor- 
tal mind, and thoughtlessness and levity cannot reform the 
heart. The Bible will point you to heaven, and the 
society of the good will help you there. 

November 18. — My dear children, I must bid you a 
long — long — farewell. Do not forget your mother, who 
loves you so much. Charles will remember me. John 
must try to remember his best earthly friend. 

November 25.— My frame is tvasting away. I think I 
shall not long behold you. Death appears to my view ; 
but I believe, when I meet it, it will be stripped of its 
terrors, and I think I feel willing to meet it when it is 



340 HIDDEN LIFE OF A CHRISTIAN. 

God's will. I feel that I am a great sinner, but Christ is 
a great Saviour. I am lost and undone, but such He came 
to seek and save. 

My dear children, whom I love so much, I must leave 
you. I almost wish I could take you to heaven with me ; 
not so much on my own account, as on yours. But you 
must make Jesus your friend, and heaven will then be 
your home at last. Shall we not all meet there — a hap- 
py family ? or who shall be left out ? Will my C. or my 
J. follow their own inclinations and walk the downward 
road to destruction ? O it must not be. You must give 
your hearts early to God. Remember, your mother felt 
much for you on this subject. Her one petition for you 
was for a new heart. O, children, you must seek this. 
You must pray for this, and if sincere you will obtain. 
I am taken from you just at that age you might begin to 
receive religious instruction. I had laid up many things to 
say to my children when they could bear them, butTcan 
say nothing more now. I submit. 




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